Eastern Approaches by Fitzroy MacLean (1949)

The situation, I felt, was fraught with amusing possibilities.
(Fitzroy’s confidently aristocratic attitude in a nutshell, page 142)

Brigadier Sir Fitzroy Hew Royle Maclean, 1st Baronet (1911 to 1996) was phenomenally posh, came from a landed Scottish aristocratic family with a long history of service in the British Army, and had the very best education Britain could provide (Eton, King’s College Cambridge), before joining the Diplomatic Service in 1933.

This classic, awesomely impressive (and surprisingly long) memoir reeks of the confidence and privilege of the class and generation of British aristocrats who ruled a quarter of the world at the peak  extent of the British Empire between the wars, and then led Britain’s war against Nazi Germany.

The book covers the eight years from 1937 to 1945 and divides into three distinct periods of employment and adventure:

  1. serving in the British Embassy in Moscow from 1937 until late 1939
  2. as soon as the war broke out he enlisted (as a private in the Queen’s Own Cameron Highlanders, his father’s old regiment) but the adventure really kicks off when, in early 1942, he joined the newly formed Special Air Service and spent a year or so in the North African desert
  3. in summer 1943 Churchill chose Maclean to lead a liaison mission (‘Macmis’) to central Yugoslavia to liaise with Josip Broz (also known as Tito) and his partisan forces, the longest, most detailed part of the book

It’s a long book at 540 pages. With a few more photos and maps, it crossed my mind that these three quite distinct adventures could possibly have been broken up into three smaller, more focused books. Combined like this, the range of the three subjects gives it an epic, almost unmanageably vast reach.

(Incidentally, the chapters in each of the three parts each start again at number 1, so there are three sets of chapters 1, 2, 3 etc.)

Part 1. Moscow and Central Asia (pages 11 to 179)

Paris politics

Maclean joined the Diplomatic Service in 1933 and in 1934 was posted to the Paris Embassy. The book kicks off with a brief summary of his experiences at the British Embassy in Paris and French politics of the mid-1930s i.e. hopelessly divided and chaotic, at times almost verging on civil war. It’s important to bear these divisions in mind when considering 1) the creation of the Vichy regime and how the Vichy French fought the British, especially in the Middle East (see A Line In The Sand: Britain, France and the Struggle That Shaped the Middle East by James Barrine) and 2) the nature of the French Resistance which, as numerous eye-witness accounts in Ben Macintyre’s book about the SAS explain, was tremendously fractured and often bitterly divided, including everyone from right-wing monarchists to fiery communists who often fought each other as much as the Germans.

Moscow and the show trials

Anyway, after a few years Maclean bored of Paris and in February 1937 asked to be sent to the Moscow embassy. Here he discovers the small foreign diplomatic community lives very isolated from the ordinary Russian people who, he discover, live in terror of the regime, everyone scared of any contact with foreigners, repressed, tight-lipped because of the spies and informers everywhere.

He arrives at a fascinating moment, just as Stalin’s show trials are getting into their swing. For the political analyst this is the best part of this section. He describes how Stalin’s purges swept away huge swathes of the top leadership in the Red Army and Navy – notably the charismatic Marshal Tukhachevsky – and then leading figures in the Soviet administration – notably the trial and execution of Zinoviev, Kamenev and other Old Bolsheviks in 1936.

The purges created a climate of terror in which the ordinary round of diplomatic parties and receptions became painful as all the Soviet officials stood on one side of the room, all of them terrified that the slightest contact with a foreigner would be reported and doom them, literally, to death. The centrepiece of all this is his eye-witness description of the trial of a dozen or so key figures in the Party, centring on Nikolai Ivanovich Bukharin.

Bukharin was tried in what came to be known as the ‘Trial of the Twenty One’, which took place on 2 to 13 March 1938, along with ex-premier Alexei Rykov, Christian Rakovsky, Nikolai Krestinsky, Genrikh Yagoda and 16 other defendants alleged to belong to a so-called ‘Bloc of Rightists and Trotskyites’. The trial was designed to be the culmination of the previous show trials, a climactic Final Act. The prosecutor alleged that Bukharin and others had been traitors from the start, had conspired to assassinate Lenin and Stalin, had murdered Maxim Gorky with poison, and planned to overthrow the regime, partition the Soviet Union and hand her territories over to their foreign collaborators in Germany, Japan and Great Britain.

All this is given in great detail in the book’s longest chapter, chapter 7, ‘Winter in Moscow’, pages 80 to 121, with vivid portraits of the state prosecutor Andrey Vyshinski and President of the Court Vasiliy Ulrich.

The purpose of the show trials

To many in the West the grotesque aspect of the show trials – the ridiculously lurid accusations and the grovelling obeisance of the accused – confirmed that Stalin’s rule was a dictatorship of the crudest kind. The trial was a breaking point for many western communists, the moment they were forced to concede that the dream of a communist utopia was in fact a totalitarian nightmare.

But Maclean spends a couple of pages explaining not only why the accused were reduced to grovelling self-accusation, but also the purpose the trials served within the Soviet Union. You should never forget that the majority of any population is not very well educated and not very interested in politics and this was especially true of the USSR where the majority of the population was still illiterate peasants. That’s why the accusations had to be so lurid and extreme, to create cartoon images of total iniquity – that the accused had conspired to murder Lenin, conspired with foreign powers to overthrow the regime, had kidnapped, tortured and murdered people. Their villainy had to be caricatured enough to be understood by the most illiterate peasants and workers.

The extremity of the alleged crimes was designed to scare peasants and workers into thinking there was a relentless conspiracy against the regime, even at the highest levels, and this justified the atmosphere of fear, paranoia and suspicion which characterised Soviet Russia. Everybody should be on their guard all the time because anyone – even the highest in the land such as those on trial – could turn out to be wicked traitors.

This worked in Stalin’s favour because it universalised the climate of fear in which people would barely be able to think about questioning the regime, let alone organising meetings or planning anything.

Stories about foreigners bringing their foreign plans to overthrow the Workers’ Paradise would also make the entire population suspicious not only of foreigners and foreign ideas and the whole notion of outsiders. Good. This suited Stalin, too.

And the trials also provided scapegoats for the failings of the state. If there were famines, if there were shortages, blame it on the wreckers and the saboteurs. Papa Stalin is doing everything he can to combat the traitors and it’s a hard struggle but you can help him and help your comrades by reporting anyone you see talking or behaving suspiciously.

So the very grotesqueness and extremity and absurdity which broke the allegiance of western intellectuals like Arthur Koestler were precisely the qualities Stalin was aiming at in order to spread his message to the furthest reaches of the Soviet regime and its dimmest least educated citizens (p.118).

Travels in Central Asia

But the show trial, dramatic though it is, only takes up one chapter. The Russia section is better known for MacLean’s extensive travels to legendary locations in Central Asia, namely the romantic cities of Tashkent, Samarkand and Bokhara. Only a handful of Europeans had traveled to these places during the later Victorian period and then, with the war, revolution and civil war, then Bolshevik rule, they had been completely inaccessible under Soviet rule.

The chapters describing his attempts to visit them are, therefore, as much about his convoluted machinations to evade Soviet bureaucracy and play local officials and NKVD operatives as about the places themselves, with lengthy descriptions of the difficulties of travelling by Russian train, bus, lorry, horse or just walking, in his relentless odysseys around central Asia.

He undertook these epic journeys during periods of leave from the embassy.

Trip 1 – Baku

By train to Kharkov. Rostov on Don. Kuban Steppe. Baku. By boat (the Centrosoyuz) to Lenkoran. Boat back to Baku. Train to Tiflis, capital of Georgia, where he visits the British Military Cemetery and meets old English governess, Miss Fellows. By truck along the Military Road to Ordzhonikidze. Train back to Moscow.

Trip 2 – Alma Ata-Tashkent-Samarkand (September 1937)

Trans-Siberian train from Moscow. Alights at Sverdlovsk (former Ekaterinburg, p.54). Train to Novosibirsk. Changes to Tirksib railway (only completed in 1930) south towards Turkmenistan (p.56). The three categories of Soviet railway carriage: international, soft and hard. Alights at Biisk. Takes another train, south to Altaisk then onto Barnaul. Enter the Soviet Republic of Kazakhstan near Semipalatinsk. Alights and catches a lorry to Alma Mata ‘one of the pleasantest provincial towns in the Soviet Union’ (p.65), one of the first Russian towns built in Central Asia, in the 1850s, and which is ten miles from the railway. Lorry 40 miles to the village of Talgar in the foothills of the Tien Shen mountains. Dinner with locals then hitched a lorry back to Alma Ata. By dilapidated Ford motor car up into the mountains, to Lake Issik and magnificent view over the Steppe. Sleeps in a hut. Next morning bit of an explore then car back to Alma Ata.

Next day catches train the 500 miles south-west to Tashkent. It stops at Samarkand where he alights for a few hours and explores, seeing the domes of Shakh Zinda and the Gur Emir (p.73) then back onto the very crowded train. Extensive description of Samarkand pages 73 to 76. Tashkent, centre of the Soviet cotton industry (pages 76 to 78).

Having achieved his goals, by train back to Moscow, first across the Kazakh Steppe, then (in Russia proper) by way of Orenburg, Kuibyshev and Penza. But he had conceived two new goals: further south-west to Bokhara, and east across the Tien Shan mountains into the Chinese province of Sinkiang…

Trip 3 – Failing to get to Urumchi, capital of Sinkiang province (June 1938)

(Chapter 8) To Maclean’s delight he is given an official mission to travel to Urumchi, capital of Sinkiang, to ask the Chinese authorities for better treatment of Indian merchants. After comic wrangling with the Chinese embassy in Moscow he sets off on the 5-day rail journey to Alma Ata, two days across European Russia arriving at Orenburg ‘base of the imperial Russian forces in their campaign against the rulers of Tashkent, Samarkand and Bokhara during the second half of the last century’ (p.125). On past the Sea of Aral and along the course of the river Syr Darya, through Arys, Chimkent and Mankent to Alma Ata. Change rail lines to the Turksib line and head north and east 400 miles to Ayaguz, where starts the main road out of Soviet Russia and into Sinkiang.

At Ayaguz the Soviet officials and local NKVD are surprisingly helpful and lay on a bus (which quickly fills up) to take him to the border town of Bakhti. Overnight in the village of Urdjar, next morning arrive in Bakhti (p.130). Here a Sovsintorg official commandeers a lorry and they set off on the 48-hour journey to Urumchi.

However they barely get across the border with China, and arrive at the Chinese border post, when there are problems. His passport is taken off him and he is detained for hours. He discovers the passport has been sent by special messenger to the governor of the local area, Chuguchak, and they have to wait for a reply. Eventually a car returns from this mission and a sleek Chinese official informs Maclean the governor has received no information or authorisation about him and so, despite all his protestations, he must return to the Soviet Union, in fact all the way back to Alma Ata where he must contact the Chinese consul.

At the border Maclean gets the impression the Soviet officials knew all along this would happen and gently mock him. As it happens, one says with a smile, the same bus that brought him is still waiting. He can board it now and return to Bakhti. After driving all night he arrives at Ayaguz in time to catch the train back to Alma Ata.

Here there is more fol-de-rol between the Soviet authorities and the local Chinese Consul, a seedy man residing in a rundown building. The Soviet plenipotentiary instructs the Chinese to send a message to Urumchi. Next day the Chinese inform him that he is not allowed into the country, and an imposing NKVD officer tells him he must leave Alma Ata immediately, as it is a restricted area. The entire trip has been a complete failure (p.137).

It is interesting to read that Sinkiang was a rebellious troublesome province for the Chinese ever since it was incorporated into their empire and was in Maclean’s time because of course, it still is today:

Trip 4 – through Soviet central Asia to the Oxus and on to Kabul (autumn 1938)

(Chapter 9) He sets his sights on visiting Bokhara, former capital of the emirs, of reaching the fabled river Oxus, and crossing into Afghanistan. Leaves Moscow on 7 October on a train bound for Askabad. Third evening arrive at Orenberg ‘which for more than one hundred years marked the furthest point of Russia’s advance against the Kirghiz and Turkomans and the Khans of Bokhara and Khiva.’ Two more days the train passes through the Kara Kum or Black Desert past the bleak mud flats of the Aral Sea. On the fifth night reached Tashkent and woke not far from Samarkand but he decides not to revisit it, but to continue on the train, west, following the river Zaravshan, to Bokhara.

He alights at Kagan. He learns that the daily train to Bokhara has left so, on impulse, seeing a lorry laden with cotton bales just starting off down the road to Bokhara, he runs and jumps in the back. Unfortunately so does one of the NKVD minders who’ve been following him, and he’s been reported so after a short stretch a car packed with officials pulls the lorry over but by this time it is packed with Uzbeks who’d followed his example so Maclean is able to sneak off and hide behind a tree. Eventually, after the lorry has been thoroughly searched and no foreigner found it is allowed to continue on its way and the NKVD car turns back to Kagan. There’s nothing for it but to walk. It’s a very long walk, into the night, until he tops a slight rise and finds himself looking at the legendary city of Bokhara by moonlight.

(Chapter 10) Story of the Reverend Joseph Wolff. He explores Bokhara, finds no inn to take him so sleeps rough in a public garden, which irks the NKVD agents who he knows are tailing him. Next day he’s up and exploring again, seeing the ‘Tower of Death’, the principal mosques, the Kalyan, or Kok Gumbaz (Blue Dome), the grim thousand-year-old Ark or Citadel of the Emirs. He gives us a characteristically pithy historical summary.

With the capture in 1868 of Samarkand and the upper reaches of the Zaravshan by the Russians, who thus gained control of his water supply, the Emir of Bokhara was obliged to accept the suzerainty of the Tsar and Russian control of his relations with the outside world; but inside his own dominions he maintained his own army and enjoyed absolute power of life and death over his unfortunate subjects. The Russian population was limited to a few officials and merchants, while the Emir excluded other Europeans from his domains with a jealousy which has been emulated by his Bolshevik successors. Bokhara thus remained a centre of Mohammedan civilization, a holy city with a hundred mosques, three hundred places of learning, and the richest bazaar in Central Asia. It was not until 1920, three years after the downfall of his imperial suzerain, that the last Emir, after vainly invoking the help of both the Turks and the British, fled headlong across the Oxus to Afghanistan, dropping favourite dancing boy after favourite dancing boy in his flight, in the hope of thus retarding the advance of the pursuing Red Army, who, however, were not to be distracted from their purpose by such stratagems. (A leading part was played in these events by the same Faisullah Khojayev, whom I had seen condemned to death in Moscow six months earlier.)

He could have stayed a month but his leave is limited, so he catches a train back to Kagan, then another one south, heading towards Stalinabad, the capital of Tajikistan. The last section follows the course of the Oxus (Amu Darya) passing through eastern Turkmenistan. The far bank of the river was Afghan territory and that’s where he wanted to head next.

(Chapter 11. Across the Oxus) He alights at Termez, which he explores then seeks out the chief of police  and presents his diplomatic laisser passer which should allow him to the exit the Soviet Union anywhere, in this case crossing the river Oxus into Afghanistan. The chief of police gives him permission but when Maclean arrives at the actual frontier post at Patta Hissa, they haven’t been notified. By gentle persistence Maclean eventually persuades the officer in charge to arrange for the repair of one of the three paddle boats kept to cross the river but which had fallen into disrepair. Soldiers and engineers get the most viable steamer, ‘which rejoiced in the name of Seventeenth Party Congress,’ working and fix it up enough to put-put him across the river, it takes half an hour because of treacherous sand banks.

On the Afghan side some locals take his bags and him under their wing. They examine his passport without understanding it and he manages to convey he wants to head to Mazar-i-Sharif. Dinner and sleep. Next morning a horse is provided and he sets off under escort. the riverside reeds give way to desert. He is detained at a saria or mud fort by fierce locals before being grudgingly allowed to continue.

Off to the west are the ruins of Balkh, the ancient Bactria. The oasis of Seyagird. Tea with the headman who provides a cart for his baggage, then a further trek across desert eventually arriving at Mazar. He discovers a Russian couple who take him in but inform him of the cholera epidemic sweeping the area which means it is quarantined. He locates the local Director of Sanitation who agrees, after some negotiation, to sign a medical certificate declaring Maclean has had cholera and recovered. Portrait of Mazar, main point being it is the capital of what he calls Afghan Turkestan, which is cut off geographically and ethnically from Kabul and the south (p.164).

A truck was scheduled to drive the 300 or so miles to Afghanistan and the authorities assign him a seat. Tashkurgan and then up into rocky mountains to a place named Hai-Bak and, at 3 in the morning, to Doaba in the Andarrab valley, where he sleeps in a government rest house. In the way of British aristocrats, especially the Scots, he discovers ‘a fellow clanswoman’ Mrs Fraser-Tytler who, it turns out, he had known during his childhood in Inverness.

He takes a detour west to the Bamyan valley to see the two immense Buddhas carved in the rock. Then across the mountain which is the watershed between the Oxus and the Indus at a height of 12,000 feet and soon arrives at Kabul.

(Chapter 12. Homeward bound) He had hoped to head west to Herat and cross back into the USSR at Kershk and join the railway at Merv but none of this was to be. the Soviet consulate in Kabul made it quite clear that, because of the cholera epidemic, nobody was being allowed back into the USSR from Afghanistan.

Instead he is forced to head south into British India and fly. The route is: Kabul. Jalalabad. The Khyber Pass. Into British India and the town of Peshawar. Train to Delhi. As a pukka diplomat he meets the most senior British officials, dinner, good beds, a world away from his recent experiences. He obtains the visa he’ll need to exit Persia into the USSR.

From Delhi by plane to Baghdad, stopping over in Basra. After staying over in Baghdad, ‘a disappointing city’, he takes a car towards Tehran. Across the border into the Persia at Khanikin. Along a road built by the Brits to Kermanshah, and then to Hamadan, ‘the Ecbatana of the ancients’ (p.170). Changes car and car shares with four bulky Iranians driving north for the border with the USSR at Djulfa. Stops at Kavin (to eat), Zenjan (to sleep), through Mianeh, arriving at Tabriz the capital of Persian Azerbaijan.

Two days hobnobbing with the British Consul and haggling with the Persian governor about the validity of his exit visa. Eventually given permission to head north to the border, Djulfa in the valley of the Araxes. Comic scene where the Persian guards happily allow him onto the bridge across the river but the Soviet guard at the other end refuses to let him enter the USSR and when he turns to re-enter Persia the Persian border guard says this is impossible. Luckily a car arrives with a Soviet official who, reluctantly, accepts his diplomatic laisser-passer and lets him enter. He cashes money at the post office and checks into an inn.

Train to Erivan, capital of Soviet Armenia, running alongside the river Araxa which forms the border. Portrait of Erivan. Train to Tiflis, capital of Soviet Georgia, and so on to Batum, the second largest city in Georgia, on the banks of the Black Sea. He observes that so many of these central Asian towns were only conquered by the advancing Russian from the 1870s and many only began to be developed in a modern way after the Russian Civil War, so many of them have the same air of being half built, of having grand central squares full of vast totalitarian Soviet buildings, quickly giving way to a few streets of bourgeois wealth, and then extensive hovels and shacks.

He had hoped to sail from Batum but storms meant departures were cancelled. So by train back to Tiflis. It was 18 months since he was last there (on his first trip) and he finds it has been noticeably Sovietised and security tightened. He is arrested by the NKVD and spends a day arguing with NKVD officers until the commander returns and releases him back to his hotel.

Next morning he takes a lorry to Ordzhonikidze by the Georgian Military Road which is covered in snow; they regularly have to stop and dig the lorry out of drifts. From Ordzhonikidze he catches the sleeper train back to Moscow, arriving two days later in time to receive an invitation to dinner from the Belgian chargé d’affaires (see below).

What an extraordinary adventure! What a mind-boggling itinerary! It is a mark of how backward we have gone that Maclean was able to travel through all those countries in complete safety whereas now, in the supposedly enlightened and progressive 2020s, I don’t think any Westerner in their right mind would want to travel through central Asia, let along Afghanistan, or contemplate a jolly car trip across Iraq and Iran.

The glamour of central Asia

For those susceptible to it, all these places – Tashkent, Samarkand, the Oxus, western outposts of the legendary Silk Road – have a tremendous glamour and attraction. Reading his account you realise it’s  1) partly because they’re so remote and inaccessible and so simply to have visited them is an achievement which gains you kudos in a certain kind of upper-middle class circle; 2) partly because of the wonders and treasures when you arrive, such as the grand Registran in Samarakand; but also 3), as so often with travelling, because it is an escape from the humdrum modern world. A number of throwaway remarks indicate this, including one which leapt out at me: ‘Uzbek houses have changed very little since the days of Tamerlane‘ (p.143). These are places where you can, for long spells, believe that you have travelled back in time to the Middle Ages and not just of banal Britain, but to the glamorous days of Tamerlane and such legendary figures, or even further back, visiting the ruins of cities founded by Alexander the Great! It is, in a way, an escape back to the Arabian Nights wonderlands of childhood.

And picking up on the previous section, reading it now, in 2024, one can only marvel at the relative peacefulness and security and scope of where you could travel freely in the 1930s – albeit the entire system was about to be plunged into a global holocaust.

The methodology of Soviet imperialism

On a political level his travels in Central Asia give him an insight into the effectiveness of the Soviet empire:

As the basis for a policy of imperialism, this system has much to recommend it. Power is vested in the hands of a group of reliable natives, who are responsible for seeing that the wishes of the central authority are carried out. If they prove unreliable, they can be replaced by others, while, if the worst comes to the worst, an emissary of the central authority can be sent to put things right. By this means, no risks are taken and an appearance of autonomy is preserved. Moreover it is a system which is capable of application to any new country which happens to fall under Soviet dominion. Thus, more recently, in Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania Soviet Socialist Republics have been set up and politically reliable governments formed from members of the local Communist Parties. It is, we are now learning, a stereotyped pattern into which almost any people or country can be made to fit with a little squeezing and pushing. (p.35)

A German official predicts the course of the war

All this took place at the end of the 1930s as Europe hurtled towards war but there is surprisingly little about Hitler and the Nazis; in fact, given that MacLean was a diplomat, there’s surprisingly little about international affairs at all.

It’s only at the very end of the Asian adventures section, after he’s arrived back in Moscow exhausted, filthy and unshaven from his final trip to discover an invitation to a formal dinner being given by the Belgian chargé d’affaires that very evening, that there’s finally something about the broader international situation. And this is given as a prediction by a friend of his, his opposite number at the German embassy, Johnny Herwarth von Bittenfeld.

Herwarth (in MacLean’s account) makes a number of predictions which all were to come true. He thinks Britain backing down at Munich (September 1938) is a disaster because:

  • it will embolden Hitler to make more and more outrageous demands
  • it will weaken all voices within Germany calling for restraint
  • it will, thus, make war inevitable
  • war is only tenable if Germany can make peace with the Russians
  • if not, there will be a war on two fronts which Germany will lose and be utterly ruined

Part 2. War (183 to 299)

Coming from a long line of soldiers, when war breaks out Maclean wants to fight but discovers that it is impossible for someone serving in the Diplomatic Service to join the army. He is not allowed to resign in order join up. So he studies the Foreign Office rules intensely and realises there’s a loophole. He is allowed to resign from the service in one situation – if he wants to go into politics. So he contacts the Conservative Party who say they’ll be happy to have him as a candidate for the next constituency which becomes vacant and, armed with this, marches into his boss’s office (the Permanent Under-Secretary for Foreign Affairs, Sir Alexander Cadogan) and declares that he wants to go into politics, resignation in hand. As he predicts, his superiors are unable to stop him and so let him resign.

He promptly walks round to the recruiting office of his father’s regiment, the Queen’s Own Cameron Highlanders, where he enlists as a private soldier. (p.184). But, when the next by-election crops up he is  legally obliged, under the terms of his resignation letter, to stand and so finds himself the Conservative candidate and then wins the election to become Conservative MP for Lancaster in 1941 (p.189). He hadn’t hidden from the electors that he was in the Army and first duty was to serve and all through his subsequent service he remains, I think, Tory MP for Lancaster.

There are some pages about basic army life and training. As you might expect of someone so over-qualified to be a simple squaddy he is soon promoted to lance-corporal. Among other things he confirms that, in the Army, almost every other word is the F word which he demonstrates by quoting conversations or orders with the offending word bleeped out (pages 184 to 186).

Desert War

After two years of training and exercises he is, as you might expect, in 1941 commissioned as an officer and receives orders to fly to Cairo (p.189). After the retreat from Dunkirk, apart from a few abortive expeditions (a failed attack on Norway or on the French coast) North Africa was the main area of British overseas military activity.

Because I myself am not too clear about this and Maclean’s book refers only to some aspects, I’m going to cheat and quote Wikipedia’s summary of the entire Desert War:

Military operations began in June 1940 with the Italian declaration of war and the Italian invasion of Egypt from Libya in September. Operation Compass, a five-day raid by the British in December 1940, was so successful that it led to the destruction of the Italian 10th Army (10ª Armata) over the following two months. Benito Mussolini sought help from Adolf Hitler, who sent a small German force to Tripoli under Directive 22 (11 January). The Afrika Korps (Generalleutnant Erwin Rommel) was formally under Italian command, as Italy was the main Axis power in the Mediterranean and North Africa.

In the spring of 1941, Rommel led Operation Sonnenblume, which pushed the Allies back to Egypt except for the siege of Tobruk at the port. At the end of 1941, Axis forces were defeated in Operation Crusader and retired again to El Agheila. In early 1942 Axis forces drove the Allies back again, then captured Tobruk after the Battle of Gazala but failed to destroy their opponents. The Axis invaded Egypt and the Allies retreated to El Alamein, where the Eighth Army fought two defensive battles, then defeated the Axis forces in the Second Battle of El Alamein in October 1942. The Eighth Army drove Axis forces out of Libya to Tunisia, which was invaded from the west by the Allied First Army in Operation Torch. In the Tunisian campaign the remaining Axis forces surrendered to the combined Allied forces in May 1943.

North Africa was so important because of the Suez Canal in the heart of Egypt. If the Germans captured Cairo it would have at least three results: 1) they would cut off easy communications with India (a huge source of manpower) and with the entire theatre of war in the Far East (Burma). More importantly 2) the Germans would be able to push on through Palestine to Iraq and Persia, source of much of the oil which was fuelling the British war effort. 3) This oil would be sent to support the German war effort in Russia and German troops coming up from Persia through the Caucasus would open a new front against Russia leading, perhaps, to the decisive defeat of Russia and to Germany, in effect winning the war.

Those were the ultimate stakes behind the Desert War and explains the genuine concern and even panic when the Afrika Corps, at its furthest extent, got within 80 miles of Cairo, and that explains why the (second) Battle of El Alamein was so important, signalling the definitive end of German advances, the beginning of German defeats, and the widespread sense that the tide of the war was changing.

Chapter 1. Special Air Service

Maclean had been invited to join some sort of commando but this fell through. Instead he literally bumps into David Stirling (who he knows vaguely because he’s good friends with Stirling’s brother, Peter, and they’re both from another grand, ancient, noble Scottish family) who invites him to join the SAS.

Stirling explains that the idea is to parachute small numbers of men behind enemy lines in North Africa and cause as much mayhem as possible, thus drawing vital resources away from the front line. After various experiments they’ve discovered that attacking lightly defended airfields is the most destructive thing they can do. They use the Lewis Bomb, a clump of explosive with a pencil fuse developed by SAS founder member Jock Lewis (p.194). Profile of the dedicated fighting machine, Paddy Mayne (p.195).

Maclean describes the Free French who were part of the unit almost from the start. The physical training i.e. long hikes in the desert and practice parachuting. He has to make six jumps and hates it. All a bit futile seeing as by the time he joined, the unit had settled down to being taken and collected from missions by the Long Range Desert Group (p.196).

Chapters 3 and 4. Raid on Benghazi

May 1942: Detailed description of the build up to, and execution of a ‘daring’ raid against Benghazi led by Stirling, accompanied by Randolph Churchill (compare and contrast the account of the same farcical raid given in Ben Macintyre’s SAS: Rogue Heroes).

I have always found that in dealing with foreigners whose language one does not speak, it is best to shout. (p.221)

They manage to penetrate into the highly defended city and find a safe (bomb-damaged) house to hole up in but that evening both the inflatable dinghies they’ve brought to paddle out to enemy ships and attach limpet mines to them, turn out to have leaks and simply won’t inflate. Disheartened, they spend a tense day hiding out in this damaged house, petrified of discovery, before exiting the city in the same clanking car they’d entered by, bluffing their way past the Italian guards thanks to Maclean’s fluent demotic Italian and everyone’s (Maclean, Stirling, Randolph Churchill’s) aristocratic confidence.

Chapters 5 and 6

Having extricated themselves from this failed and farcical attempt, they withdraw to Cairo. He mentions the dinner he and Stirling were invited to which was given by Winston Churchill, Chief of the General Staff General Smuts and General Alexander, the first time he meets Churchill.

The strategic situation has deteriorated and Rommel is now at El Alamein just 90 miles from Alexandria. So the SAS’s plans for a second go at Benghazi escalate into a full-blown raid by some 200 men backed by aerial bombing. Trouble is so many people are involved that security is breached and word gets around. Thus, after a very long and painful 800 mile drive of a lengthy convoy across the desert, with many mishaps, our boys finally get to the very edge of Benghazi but are greeted by a hail of machine guns and mortars, are forced to make a hasty retreat, and are pursued up into the Gebel mountains by squads of Italian warplanes who strafe and bomb them. Several trucks full of explosives and stores are blown up and it’s a miracle they weren’t all killed.

There then follows the very long account of their perilous escape across the desert, driving by night, by day being seriously bombed and strafed by Italian planes, running so low on food that eventually the entire day’s ration was one spoonful of bully beef.

A number of good men are killed on this mission. Maclean initially thought it had been a futile waste of time but GHQ assured them that it had kept a lot of enemy resources tied up, extra men to guard Benghazi and then squadrons of airplanes to search for them which were, therefore, not at the front i.e. it had been useful (p.256).

Chapter 7. Persia

Maclean explains that the British now faced the threat of an enormous pincer movement, with German forces trying to take Stalingrad up in southern Russia and pushing forward in north Africa towards Cairo and, ultimately, the Suez Canal (p.263). If you look at a large-scale map you can see how, if the Germans were victorious, they would not only take the Suez Canal, lifeline to British India, but push on through Palestine to take Iraq and Iran, meeting up with their comrades who would have pushed on south through the Caucasus. And the point of Iran was the oil. Command of Persia, and to a lesser extent Iraq, would give the Nazi empire all the oil it ever needed to maintain its war industry.

Which is why Maclean found himself posted to the Middle East and Persia service. Here, conferring with the commanding officer, General Maitland Wilson, he discovered the problems facing the British occupation of the country, most obviously that there were very few British soldiers involved. He had been summoned to discuss with Wilson the possibility of setting up an SAS-style outfit to operate behind enemy lines if the worst came to the worst and the Germans conquered Persia (p.264).

Kidnapping the general

Out of this conference comes the specific idea of kidnapping a man named General Zahidi, an unpleasant type who had sway over the tribes of south Persia, was known to be hoarding grain to inflate the price but, most importantly, was thought to be in communication with the Germans and helping them make plans to conquer Persia.

This chapter describes in great detail the preparation and execution of ‘Operation Pongo’ which, despite all the hoopla, boils down to parking a lorryload of British soldiers out the front and back of the General’s house in Isfahan, and then Maclean accompanied by a few other officers walking in, insisting to see the General, then holding him up at gunpoint, walking him out to a waiting car, and driving him off to the nearest military airport where he was flown out of the country and interned under British custody in Palestine.

On searching Zahedi’s bedroom Maclean confirms British suspicions, discovering ‘a collection of automatic weapons of German manufacture, a good deal of silk underwear, some opium, an illustrated register of the prostitutes of Isfahan and correspondence from a local German agent’ (p.274).

Incidentally, remember how I suggested part of the appeal of the mysterious cities of Central Asia was the sense of stepping back in time into the Middle Ages or beyond, well the same goes for the Persian city of Isfahan, one of the few cities Maclean has been to which lives up to its reputation, and of which he writes:

Despite the hideous modern statue of the late Shah still standing there and despite his misguided attempts, fortunately abandoned by his successor, to bludgeon Persia into giving a half-hearted and entirely superficial imitation of a modern Western industrial state, Isfahan recalls the great capital city of the Middle Ages. (p.270)

And the whole notion of kidnapping an enemy general recalls the comparable exploit, the kidnapping of General Heinrich Kreipe, the German commander of Crete, by a group of super-pukka chaps, as described in Ill Met by Moonlight by William Stanley Moss (1950), albeit it considerably more fraught and dangerous for being carried out in enemy territory.

Chapter 8

The strategic situation changes. The Germans are checked in North Africa and at Stalingrad. The immediate threat to Persia has abated. After the capture of David Stirling in January 1943 the SAS had split up into different units (including a Special Boat Service run by George Jellicoe).

Maclean is summoned back to Cairo and told that, with North Africa on the verge of being secure, the Allied focus is turning to Italy. He is ordered to plan for SAS-style raids on Sicily but the mission is called off at the last moment. He’s at a bit of a loose end when he is summoned back to London where he meets Churchill for a weekend conference at Chequers (p.280). Here he is told he is going to be dropped into Yugoslavia (spelled ‘Jugoslavia’ throughout the book) to find out more about the partisans who have been fighting against the Germans and to contact their supposed leader, ‘Tito’. Nobody’s sure, at this point, whether Tito exists, whether he’s a man (or even a woman) or maybe the name of a committee of some kind?

Churchill tells him to establish the situation on the ground, find out whichever partisan group is killing most Germans, and help them to kill more. Churchill wrote that he wanted: ‘a daring Ambassador-leader to these hardy and hunted people’ (p.294).

What we knew for sure was that the partisans were communists and so likely to be in thrall to Soviet central control so Maclean asks Churchill directly, should he be worried about the political aspects of the situation. The straight answer is No. His mission is to find out who is killing the most Germans and help them to kill more (p.281), a point reiterated when he meets Churchill in Cairo (p.403).

He gives a detailed and very useful summary of the origins of Yugoslavia, going back to the conquest of Constantinople by the Ottoman Turks, and the long struggle of the Balkan Christian nations to free themselves, leading into a detailed description of the region before, during and after the Great War and leading up to the Nazi invasion (pages 279 to 293). He’s especially good on the deeply embedded enmity between Serbs (Orthodox Christians who fought hard against the occupying Turks i.e. have a paranoid embattled mindset) and the Croats (Catholic Christians who were part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire and so considered themselves civilised and superior to their barbarian neighbours) still a good read for anyone interested in the background to the ruinous civil wars of the 1990s. Right at the end of the Yugoslavia section he comments:

In the Balkans the tradition of violence is old-established and deep-rooted. (p.524)

Part 3. Yugoslavia

Zivio Tito. Smrt Fašismu. Sloboda narodu.
(‘Long live Tito. Death to Fascism. Liberty to the People.’ Partisan slogans, page 345)

Maclean is now aged 32. He selects a team of a dozen or so men who are trained, equipped and parachuted into Yugoslavia a week after the Italian capitulation i.e. early September 1943. They are met by Partisans and efficiently taken to Tito’s headquarters in an old castle. Maclean introduces himself and his team and makes it plain he is here on an investigation into the overall situation.

His description and analysis of the situation in Yugoslavia is fascinating and spread over many pages as new facts come in and shift his understanding. It contains many insights into the situation in Yugoslavia and of partisan fighting in general.

Occupation mentality Nobody who hasn’t lived under enemy occupation, specially Nazi occupation, can understand the bitter enmities, rivalries and retaliations it triggers.

For anyone who was not himself in German-occupied Europe during the war it is hard to imagine the savage intensity of the passions which were aroused or the extremes of bitterness which they engendered. In Jugoslavia the old racial, religious and political feuds were, as it were, magnified and revitalized by the war, the occupation and the resistance, the latent tradition of violence revived. The lesson which we were having was an object-lesson, illustrated by burnt villages, desecrated churches, massacred hostages and mutilated corpses. (p.338)

Tito’s intelligence and independence What makes Tito so impressive is his readiness to argue any point out with a completely open mind then make a decision, which is generally the right one.

Tito’s name derives from this quickness to make decisions. He so regularly said to his men ‘You will do this, and you will do that’ which, in Serbo-Croatian, is ‘Ti to; ti to’, hence his nickname (p.311).

– Maclean concludes that the partisans are so numerous (at least 100,000 under arms) and well organised that they will probably emerge as the major element in post-war Yugoslav politics. At which point the big question will be: Will Tito, a dedicated communist, fall into line behind Moscow as all other communist parties have? (p.339) But Maclean quotes a conversation he had with him where Tito emphasises that so many Yugoslavs have been killed or tortured that they won’t willingly throw away their hard-earned independence (p.316) and Tito himself has undergone the experience of building up and leading a national resistance movement from scratch, a position, Maclean thinks, he will be reluctant to surrender (p.340).

The Četniks The other resistance fighting organisation is the Četniks led by Draža Mihailović. Two points: 1) they were Royalists who took their orders from the king who was in exile in Italy and so fundamentally detached from the realities on the ground. 2) They were demoralised by the Nazis brutal reprisals for their activities (p.336). This contrasted with the Partisans who ignored Nazi reprisals and won a grudging admiration for fighting on regardless of how many men, women and children were murdered, tortured or burnt alive by the blonde beasts from Germany.

The Ustaše (also called Ustashas or Ustashi) was a Croatian racist, terrorist, and Nazi-like movement, active from before the war (1929) which during the war was allowed to implement a reign of terror. Their genocide of the Orthodox, murdering priests, locking villages in churches and burning them down (p.334). Events which shed light on or explained the brutality of the Bosnian war of the 1990s:

This kaleidoscope of heroism and treachery, rivalry and intrigue had become the background to our daily life. Bosnia, where we had our first sight of enemy-occupied Jugoslavia, was in a sense a microcosm of the country as a whole. In the past it had been fought over repeatedly by Turks, Austrians and Serbs, and most of the national trends and tendencies were represented there, all at their most violent. The population was made up of violently Catholic Croats and no less violently Orthodox Serbs, with a strong admixture of equally fanatical local Moslems. The mountainous, heavily wooded country was admirably suited to guerrilla warfare, and it had long been one of the principal Partisan strongholds, while there was also a considerable sprinkling of Cetnik bands. It had been the scene of the worst of the atrocities committed by the Ustase, of the not unnaturally drastic reprisals of the Cetniks and Partisans. (p.337)

The power of communism In guerrilla warfare ideas matter more than material resources (p.331). This is where the devoted belief of the communists comes in and Maclean’s analysis suggests a very profound historical point that he doesn’t quite articulate: that communism flourished in countries all round the world, and particularly among guerrillas, partisans and militias all across the Third World after the war, not because it was right, but because it was the most effective ideology for binding together and motivating those kinds of liberation fighters. Communism triumphed in the Darwinian struggle of ideologies for a number of obvious reasons:

  • it promises a better fairer world; if you care for humanity, you must be a communist
  • it is based on scientific principles and a teleological view of history which means it is inevitable, unstoppable
  • it transcends ethnic or national rivalries, purports to unite all people, races and creeds, in a transnational crusade for justice and equality
  • these and other considerations bred a fanatical adherence

(Seen from this strictly utilitarian point of view, communism’s modern equivalent would be militant Islam, extreme Islamic groups across the Middle East and North Africa being shown to create not only fanatical devotees but to unite fighters from all backgrounds and races (a theme mentioned in The World’s Most Dangerous Place: Inside the Outlaw State of Somalia by James Fergusson, 2013).)

He gives a good potted biography of Tito, son of a Croatian peasant (pages 310 to 313).

The epic trek to the Adriatic

The army engineer he’s brought with him supervises the flattening of a likely looking field to make a runway for the RAF to fly in much-needed supplies to the Partisans, but HQ back in Cairo make it clear the RAF aren’t keen on entrusting their pilots’ lives to amateur airfield builders. A new plan is suggested: that the Royal Navy brings supplies to a port on the coast of Dalmatia, until recently held by the Italians and not yet annexed by the Germans. In fact the Navy are wary, too, and prefer to drop supplies at an island off the coast.

Anyway, Maclean agrees a plan with Tito (impatient to get supplies anyway he can) who gives him Partisans to escort Maclean and a few of his team (Street, Henniker-Major and Sergeant Duncan) across country to the Adriatic coast, there to assess the situation and suggest the best island. Thus commences a long and arduous trek across mountains, through woods, crossing a German-patrolled road, fording a river, meeting all kinds of eccentric characters along the way and seeing for themselves the carnage meted out by the once-occupying Italians.

The itinerary is: Jajce (Tito’s base in Bosnia). Bugojno. Kupres. Livno (recently recovered from the Germans amid much fighting). Arzano (‘a few tiny white-washed houses, clinging to the side of a hill’). Zadvaije.

Then, at last, we heard the dogs barking in Baska Voda, were challenged once more, and, between high white-washed walls, found ourselves on a narrow jetty, looking out over a tiny harbour.

Then by local fishing boat out to the island of Korcula. They are treated royally, swim in the sea, taken round all the villages on the coast and greeted with acclaim. Trouble is, the bloody radio has stopped working so he can’t radio his whereabouts back to Cairo HQ. In the event a Navy motorboat turns up with, of course, an old chum of his from the navy and some tons of equipment.

Summary

An enormous amount happens in the next year and a half, described in 120 closely-written pages. Here are some highlights in note form:

The Germans consolidate their hold on the Dalmatian coast thus slowly squeezing off possible places for the Allies to land munitions for the partisans.

He is collected by Royal Navy motor boat and taken across the Adriatic to Allied HQ in southern Italy for orders. He is flown to Malta, then on across Libya to Cairo. Preparations are underway for a Big Three conference in the Middle East. Maclean submits his report, conclusion so far about the situation in Yugoslavia and the central importance of the partisans.

On return to Bari he finds the situation has deteriorated the Germans have seized more of the coastline. Repeated attempts to fly him back in are defeated by fog and snow. A captured German airplane is filled with top envoys from Tito to fly to Allied HQ but it has just loaded up when a German plane appears out of nowhere, attacking it with bombs and machine gun fire, killing some of Tito’s top lieutenants and some of Maclean’s British friends.

Finally he gets to land, drops some equipment and British officers, takes on board a new selection of Tito representatives, and flies back to Bari with a view to taking them on to Allied HQ in Egypt. Churchill and staff have returned from the Tehran conference with Stalin and Roosevelt (28 November to 1 December).

The central problem is that Britain has, up until now, been giving official support to the Royal Yugoslav Government in exile, appointed by King Peter, and sending arms to the Royalist Cetniks led by by Draža Mihailović. Now Maclean has to tell Churchill and other bigwigs that the Cetniks are not only not very effective on the ground but strongly suspected of acquiescing or even helping the Germans. Meanwhile, the real anti-German force is the partisans. So Maclean’s meetings with Churchill are designed to make him switch official British government support from the Cetniks to the partisans. But this leaves the  big problem that Maclean is reporting that Tito’s partisans will not only be the biggest force in post-war Yugoslavia but will probably form the government. Therefore British support for the King and the royal government in exile is increasingly irrelevant and backing the wrong horse. But how to switch British support without alienating the king, the Cetniks and the large proportion of the Yugoslav population which remains royalist? (Later on Maclean says that even the communists conceded that over half the population of Serbia was monarchist, p.490.)

This tricky diplomatic challenge runs throughout the rest of the Yugoslav part of the book and negotiations, between so many different parties, moving through so many different stages, are impossible to summarise. In a nutshell, young King Peter acquiesces in the decision but, as so often, it is his older advisors and other members of the royal family, who prove intractable and complicate the situation.

Maclean is flown back to Bari and then makes the dicey crossing back to an unoccupied Yugoslav port in a RN motor-torpedo boat. He reunites with his small staff and Tito’s staff and, after studying maps and latest German troop movements, they all agree the only viable island base for operations is the island of Vis. He then travels back to Bari to meet the Commander in Chief, General Alexander, to persuade him to assign the resources and troops required to convert Vis into a stronghold, for example building a large airfield and barracks for a permanent British force.

Yet another flight, from Bari to Marrakesh in Morocco where Churchill is recovering from flu, to persuade the great man to sign off on the Vis plan. they learn that Tito’s old headquarters in Jajce has fallen to the Germans and so, thinking they need some bucking up, Churchill writes a personal letter to Tito for Maclean to deliver by hand (p.413).

He is flown back to Bari and then parachuted into Bosnia to find and report the decision to Tito.

(Chapter 10) He is taken to meet Tito at temporary headquarters and discovers a Yugoslav Anti-Fascist Council has bestowed in Tito the rank of Marshall. Tito is delighted by the letter in which Churchill flatters him and readily agrees with the plan to make Vis a major support base for his partisans. They move about a lot and finally make a new HQ in caves overlooking a valley.

Chapter 11. New deal

Increasing air drops from the RAF and USAAF. Maclean is responsible for assigning officers to work with partisan units throughout the country.

Despite occasional stoppages, air-supplies were now arriving on a far larger scale. Air-support, too, was increasing by leaps and bounds….It was now possible, owing to the presence of my officers with Partisan formations throughout the country, to co-ordinate their operations with those of the Allied Armies in Italy. (p.429)

A Russian Mission arrives led by a Red Army general. This is the thin end of the wedge as East and West start to compete for the allegiance of Tito and his partisans.

A passage giving the decision, context and implications of the British government decision to stop supplying the Cetniks and diplomatic negotiations with King Peter (in exile in London) to see if he’s prepared to form a government of national unity i.e. let communist partisans enter his government in exile (pages 438 to 441). This would be best achieved if Maclean flies back to London to give advice, preferably accompanied by a representative of Tito.

Chapter 12. Change of scene

So he’s picked up by Dakota and flies to Algiers to meet with the new Supreme Allied Commander, General Wilson. Here, among many other decisions, it is decided to set up a Balkan Air Force which would train partisan volunteers and be responsible ‘for the planning, co-ordination and, to a large extent, execution of air operations in the Balkans’ (p.444). Long-distance phone call to Churchill with comedy because neither of them know how to use the newfangled scrambling equipment.

Next day he flies to London with the Tito delegate, Major Vlatko Velebit. It’s the spring of 1944 and England is overflowing with Americans and rumours of D-Day. He is summoned to a meeting with General Eisenhower, then to another one at Number 10. the military side – more supplies to the partisans – is easily agreed. The political negotiations with King Peter and the Royalists much more challenging. Peter has by now made an important public announcement telling his people to drop the Cetniks and support the partisans but this only has the effect of weakening his own support among disgruntled royalists without much increasing support for the partisans which was already strong.

Maclean receives a call from Buckingham Palace to go and brief the king who he finds to be surprisingly well-informed about the situation in Yugoslavia (p.449).

Then they get a radio message from Vivian Street, British officer with Tito HQ, that the cave hideout came under heavy attack from a co-ordinated German attack, many partisans were killed through Tito and senior officers made their escape. (Maclean gives a sustained description of the attack and gripping escape, pages 450 to 452.)

The HQ had been near the village of Drvar. In retaliation for supporting the partisans the Germans exterminate every man, woman and child in the village. That level of barbarism is what we were fighting to liberate Europe from.

The Germans pursue and harass Tito’s team who eventually radio for help. A date is made for a US Dakota to land at a cleared strip and Tito and key staff (and his dog Tigger) are loaded aboard and evacuated to Bari, the first time he’s been forced to leave Yugoslav soil since the conflict began (p.454).

Everyone agrees that, in order to continue functioning and provide a figurehead he must be returned to Yugoslav soil as soon as possible and the island of Vis, so long pondered as a new HQ, is agreed. Tito and his staff are taken there by Royal Navy destroyer, HMS Blackmore.

Chapter 13. Island base and brief encounter

Maclean drily observes that Tito likes caves. He makes his base on the island of Vis three-quarters up the side of Mount Hum. Since he was last there the island has been transformed with a huge Allied airfield built with as many as a dozen huge American bombers parked up.

The narrow roads were crammed with Army trucks and jeeps, stirring up clouds of red dust as they rushed along. Every few hundred yards dumps of stores and ammunition, surrounded by barbed wire and by brightly painted direction posts, advertised the presence of R.E.M.E., of N.A.A.F.I., of D.A.D.O.S., and of the hundred and one other services and organizations… Down by the harbour at Komisa was the Naval Headquarters, presided over by Commander Morgan Giles, R.N., who had what was practically an independent command over a considerable force of M.T.B.s and other light naval craft, with which he engaged in piratical activities against enemy shipping up and down the whole length of the Jugoslav coast… (p.458)

Also the establishment of the Balkan School of Artillery, set up on Vis as part of Maclean’s Mission under the command of Lieutenant-Colonel Geoffrey Kup:

whose life-work it became to instruct the Partisans in the use of the American 75-mm. Pack Howitzer. This was a light mountain gun, transportable on mule-back, if there happened to be any mules, and in general ideally suited to the type of warfare in which we were engaged. (p.459)

Also a partisan tank squadron being trained up in North Africa (p.464).

The Germans undertake another offensive, called the Seventh Offensive, against the partisans which starts with fierce fighting but then, like all the others, peters out.

The tide of the war is really turning. On 5 June 1944 Rome fell to the Allies. The following day saw the D-Day landings in Normandy. The Allies need to co-ordinate attacks on the Germans with the partisans; there needs to be discussion of the parts of northern Italy Tito wants to claim for Yugoslavia; plus the ever-intractable problem of the king and royalists. So it is that Supreme Allied Command in Italy ask for him to visit and Maclean organises the trip, accompanied by senior advisers, bodyguards and the faithful dog, Tigger.

It had been kept secret from Maclean, Tito and others that Churchill himself intended to fly in and meet Tito for the first time, and so the so-called Naples Conference came about. Churchill is fulsome in his praise, Maclean thinks Tito is amazed and pleased, the one-time peasant and revolutionary now sitting at the same table as one of the big three world leaders.

The high political problem is still how to reconcile with communist partisans with the royal government in exile, which has now crystallised round its prime minister, Dr Ivan Subasic. After ten days the Naples Conference ends and Subasic flies with Tito, his staff, Maclean etc back to Vis where the two Yugoslav parties hold a series of negotiations while the Brits sunbathe and swim in the beautiful aquamarine sea.

In the end a deal of sorts is agreed and Subasic flies back to London to put it to the king and his government.

Chapter 14. Ratweek plan

June 1944. Rumours that the Germans might retreat, withdrawing to a line they could better defend to the north of Yugoslavia. To do this they will need the central railway line from Belgrade to Salonika. Therefore it is the Allied aim to blow up the line and trap German forces in Yugoslavia.

The scheme was called ‘Operation Ratweek’. My proposal was that, for the space of one week, timed to coincide as closely as possible with the estimated beginning of the German withdrawal, the Partisans on land and the Allies on the sea and in the air, should make a series of carefully planned, carefully co-ordinated attacks on enemy lines of communication throughout Jugoslavia. This would throw the retiring forces into confusion and gravely hamper further withdrawal.

In drawing up these plans, we had recourse to all available sources of information concerning the enemy’s order of battle and the disposition of his troops, while at every stage we consulted by signal the British officers and the Partisan Commanders on the spot. Thus, the whole of the German line of withdrawal would be covered and every possible target accounted for. In the light of what we guessed the enemy’s plans to be the attack was fixed for the first week of September. (p.471)

Maclean decides to go from Bosnia to see for himself the situation in Serbia. Flies in and rendezvous with John Henniker-Major who’s been with the Serb Partisans since April. The Serb Partisans the Cinderellas of the movement, with less support from the local population, fewer rough mountains to hide in (unlike Bosnia), less successful against the Germans and so seizing fewer arms and so less well supplied than elsewhere. Lucky they have a good leader in Stambolic.

In April/May had come a change. The King announced his rapprochement with Tito and that led many to switch from supporting the passive Cetniks. Tito sent some of his best commanders to shake up the Serbian operation, notably Koca Popovic. And the Allies made a decision to stop supplying the Cetniks and supply the Partisans. As a result the latter began undertaking more operations and having greater success. Those who wanted to fight the invader went over to them, more successes, more seized arms and more prestige and respect, created a snowball effect. But still the deadly civil war between Partisans and Cetniks persisted.

So Maclean has been flown in to liaise with the Serb partisans. He is introduced to Koca, they pull out maps and have a comprehensive review of the situation, with Koca explaining where his forces can attack by themselves and where they’ll need air support, and what supplies.

Chapter 15. Ratweek fulfilment

He marches with partisans to Bojnik then onto the village where the Commander of the 24th Partisan Division, the formation responsible for the attack on the railway in the Leskovac area, had set up his Headquarters and where he finds Johnny Tregida, his liaison officer with the 24th Division. He kips in a courtyard full of Bulgarian prisoners. Next day they ride horses to Leskovac, where the attack on the railway is to take place. Information has found the town packed with German armour and motor transport and so HQ back in Bari had decided to send an unusually heavy fleet of bombers, some 50 Flying Fortresses. Maclean and his partisans watch from a nearby hill as these silver planes from high in the sky unload a huge payload on Leskovac and flatten it.

That night he observes the partisan attacks on the railway line, tackling enemy pillboxes while they set charges to blow up bridges and culverts, then tear up the railway itself and burn the sleepers. The idea is to delay or even trap the German forces in Greece and Yugoslavia, to prevent them being transferred to north Italy and Austria, to make the Allies job in those places easier.

All over occupied Yugoslavia similar attacks take place to destroy communications and bottle up the German forces. They notice enemy planes flying north and suspect they are carrying senior staff officers, communicate this to HQ who undertake attacks of these little convoys which promptly cease.

Maclean rides north to reunite with Boca, and is struck by the lush fertility of the Serb countryside and its rural prosperity, compared to rockier, poorer Bosnia. It’s a long journey over many days and Maclean gives a wonderful impressionistic account of the small villages of whitewashed houses, the locals bringing food, waking up in an orchard of plum trees, and so on. What experiences he had!

News comes through that the Bulgarians are negotiating an armistice and then that they have come in on the Allied side, with the result that Bulgarian forces throughout Yugoslavia switch sides. He meets up with Boca and Partisan headquarters which is itself riding north, now making a convoy.

They enter Prokuplje as liberators and are feted and feasted. He has just rigged up a bath and is having locals boil water when news comes of a German counter-attack, they have to quickly load their belongings and ride out.

He really enjoys life on the move in Serbia, the lush countryside and friendly villagers and wonderful food and so is annoyed when he receives a direct order from General Wilson. Tito has disappeared from Vis and Maclean is to report to the nearest partisan airstrip in order to be flown out of Serbia and find him.

Chapter 16. Grand finale

Tito has disappeared from Vis and his unexplained absence causes quite a bit of resentment among the British who had been entirely funding the partisans and lost good men among their liaison officers. After confirming his absence Maclean returns to Serbia, to hook up with the troops of Peko Dapcevic at Valjevo in time to see it fall to the partisans, helped by British Beaufighters. He finally locates Tito who’s in the Vojvodina and replies equably enough to a letter he sends him.

The second half of the chapter, pages 504 to 514, is devoted to Maclean being in at the liberation of Belgrade, the notable aspects of which are: 1) that the advance and battle are dominated by the Red Army which has crossed the Danube into Serbia – there’s lots of fraternising with Russians so lucky that Maclean speaks fluent Russian and also has received a Russian military medal which he dusts off and pins prominently to his uniform; and 2) the Germans put up a fierce resistance as they retreat, some of which Maclean witnesses at close quarters.

Chapter 17. Who goes home?

A few days after the conquest of Belgrade, Tito flies in and holds a victory march where Maclean is much moved by the ramshackle, dirty, patched-up appearance of the partisans, indicative of years of struggle, living off the land, guerrilla warfare. Now the partisans set about consolidating their grip on power. Tito negotiates a power-sharing deal with Royalists but it is plain this is only a temporary agreement.

On 27 October Maclean has his first meeting with Tito and conveys British irritation at his unexplained disappearance. In fact by this time the mystery has been cleared up because Stalin, at their most recent meeting, had told Churchill that Tito was visiting him in Moscow.

Maclean’s team of officers who had each been assigned to various partisan groups, now assemble in Belgrade and quickly convert themselves to a working British embassy. The last few pages describe this transition of the partisans from wartime guerrillas to peacetime administration. There is still fighting in the north but Tito has settled into the White Palace, Prince Paul’s former residence on the outskirts of the city (p.523). Maclean is still involved in negotiations with the king and royal government in exile, featuring Dr Subasic (who flies to Moscow to get Stalin’s blessing, p.520) which are detailed and complex but ultimately futile, for the partisans are solidly in power, with the numbers, the arms and the organisation to enforce it.

There is a lot of detail about the negotiations which dragged on until early March 1945 (p.530). But for Maclean the glory days of guerrilla warfare and living in the field were over and he asks to be transferred away from Yugoslavia. In mid-March he flies out after 18 months’ very intensive engagement, before the geopolitics and diplomacy get complex and messy. The book ends with his description of getting into the plane, taking off and watching the coastline disappear behind him. He had just turned 34. What an amazing series of adventures to have had by such a young age!

It’s very striking that the book ends with no summary, no conclusions, no Final Thoughts, no analysis of the political situation, let alone a retrospective description of how the war ended, how relations with Russia deteriorated, the start of the Cold War, Yugoslavia’s evolution under Tito’s rule or any of that – nothing, nada.

Maclean restricts himself very consciously to a first-person account of the immediate, of what he saw and thought and said and experienced. He gets on the plane and flies West and it’s over. It’s a very abrupt but totally appropriate ending.


In his father’s footsteps

Very slightly and subtly, Maclean’s father hovers in the background. Once or twice he casually mentions that some of the places he visits in Central Asia were visited by his father 30 years earlier. He enlists in the same regiment as his father. His father fought in the North African desert in the First World War and at some points MacLean passes through some of the same places e.g. Matruh (p.204). Living up to his father’s achievements.

Private school

Maclean’s aristocratic upbringing and bearing are present throughout, in his confidence and savoir vivre, in his practical skills (skiing, camping, hunting and shooting), in his urbane easiness in the company of filthy partisans or prime ministers and kings. Only once or twice does he explicitly refer to his privileged upbringing, but then in the same kind of way that all his generation and class did (the tones collected and defined by Cyril Connolly for so influencing the mindset and writing of the 1930s generations of poets and novelists):

The M.L. arrived that night and I went on board, as excited as a schoolboy going home for his first holidays.

Upper-class chums

A central characteristic of the posh, of aristocrats, of the landed gentry, reinforced by the network of private schools they attend, is that they all know each other, they are all ‘old friends’. Not only that but it only suffices to work with someone for a bit – in the Foreign Office or the Army, say – for them to be recruited into your cohort of ‘old friends’. And so these people move in a kind of gilded world filled with old friends and bonhomie.

And so, leaving them in the able and experienced hands of Jim Thomas, an old friend from Foreign Office days, I went…

In Mrs. Fraser-Tytler I found a fellow clanswoman with whom my friendship dated back to the days of my childhood in Inverness…

It was in this frame of mind that I went to see Rex Leeper, an old friend from Foreign Office days, and now His Majesty’s Ambassador to the Greek Government then in exile in Cairo… (p.278)

One of the sailors I recognized as Sandy Glenn, an old friend with a number of adventurous exploits to his credit… (p.373)

I recognized the work of my old friends Mark Chapman Walker and Hermione Ranfurly, the Commander-in-Chief’s highly efficient Military Assistant and Private Secretary… (p.401)

John Clarke and Andrew Maxwell were both old friends of mine… (p.432)

The problem which had been exercising me for some time, namely, how to get my old friend Sergeant (now Sergeant-Major) Charlie Button into Jugoslavia… (p.435)

Ralph Stevenson…British Ambassador to the Royal Jugoslav Government…was an old friend from Foreign Office days… (p.468)

The example of a partisan they worked with closely – ‘Brko, by now an old friend…’ (p.491) – indicates how it’s not length of time that makes someone an ‘old friend’, but depth of experience and closeness of companionship. Old friends need not, in fact, be old friends at all, just people you’ve gotten to know and trust, sometimes over comparably short periods of time.

This is a quality I commented on in my reviews of John Buchan, whose fabulously posh protagonists are continually bumping into ‘old friends’ whenever they need help. Not being plugged into a network of successful, well-connected ‘old friends’ in commanding positions across politics, business, the forces, the arts, I can only marvel at the ease and confidence with which these privileged creatures lived out their charmed lives. For example, take this profile of David Stirling’s Intelligence Officer, Gordon Alston:

By the time he reached the age of twenty-five Gordon had managed to have a remarkably full life. Having got off to a flying start when he left Eton at seventeen to become a racing motorist in Italy, he had later tried his hand at journalism in France and brewing beer in Germany. Since early in the war he had served in Commandos or Commando-type units. This varied experience had left him with a taste for adventure, a knowledge of foreign languages, and, most conveniently for us, an altogether remarkable flair for military intelligence.

How ripping! A big part of the pleasure of reading books like this is not only all the operational war stuff, but simply marvelling at the wonderfully varied, adventurous lives these privileged people seemed to live.

(And, as a digression, it crosses my mind that it’s the quality whose degraded, shabby, poor relation – a seedy, fake bonhomie – is satirised and ripped to shreds in William Boyd’s comic novel A Good Man in Africa.)

Upper-class manners

Being phenomenally posh, being a polished specimen of the British upper class, gives him the impeccable manners, savoir faire and confidence to meet and socialise with all ranks, from peasants to monarchs. The book invites us into this world, lends us the cloak of his manners and politesse, so that we are not as surprised as we maybe should be when Maclean calmly records being sent to meet the future leader of Yugoslavia, invited to spend the weekend with Churchill or to dine with exiled King Peter. Other countries will continue to have kings and emperors and aristocrats and leaders who reek authority and stickle for etiquette and procedure, so it makes sense that we should have a cohort of impeccably turned-out sophisticates who can match them at their game.

It is a symbol of how far Britain has fallen that the shambling liar Boris Johnson was Foreign Secretary from 2016 to 2018, embarrassing Britain at international events around the globe purely because Theresa May needed to keep a potential usurper and his faction in the ever-fractious Conservative Party onside. Shaming.

Roughing it

Aristocrats aren’t all floppy haircuts and parties in Chelsea, especially the Scottish variety. Instead, Maclean really loves roughing it, and takes to life on the road in Central Asia or on the run with partisans in the forests of Bosnia with equal alacrity. He likes the simple life.

Having eaten my breakfast, I cleaned out my mess tin and used it for boiling some snow-water on the stove, to shave in. It was an agreeably compact mode of life, with no time, space or energy wasted on unnecessary frills. (p.420)

Time after time he tells us that sleeping rough, bunking down in an orchard wrapped only in his greatcoat and with his backpack for a pillow, eating primitive food in a cave in Bosnia or bully beef in the Libyan Desert, this is what he wants, this is how he likes it, pure and clean and simple.

Lols

Maclean has a dry, understated sense of humour, the true aristocratic drollness, an unflappable ability to put up with discomfort and find the amusing in every situation. The book is studded with a number of comic setpieces.

Our short train journey had an improbable, dreamlike quality, which even while it was actually in progress, made it hard to believe that it was really happening. From the inside, Tito’s special coach was even more like a hut than from the outside, with an open stove in the middle and benches round the wall. The stifling heat of the stove induced sleep. The benches on the other hand were just too narrow to sleep on with any security. On the floor lay Tigger, in a bad temper and snapping at everyone’s ankles. At last, after a great deal of fussing and settling down, he went to sleep, only to be woken again almost immediately by a Cabinet Minister falling off one of the benches on top of him, whereupon pandemonium broke loose. It was not a restful journey… (p.421)

Also the story of the British officer, living and working with the partisans who, wherever he puts his sleeping bag and goes to sleep, always fidgets and ends up rolling yards, sometimes quite a distance away, one time being found wrapped round a tree stump, another time on the edge of a precipice, each time fast asleep and snoring his head off.

An eye for the ladies

There’s no mention of a girlfriend, lovers, no romance and certainly no sex of any kind. It’s part of the book’s tact and discretion. But Maclean does have what we used to call ‘an eye for the ladies’ and permits himself regular mention of particularly toothsome young women whenever he encounters them:

[In Korcula] a small crowd had soon collected to look at us. It included, I noticed with pleasure, one extremely pretty girl., (p.366)

From now onwards [Charlie Button] took charge of the Mission’s administrative arrangements, and ‘Gospodin Charlie’, as he was known, could be seen planning moves, negotiating for pack-horses, bartering strips of parachute silk for honey or eggs with buxom peasant girls… (p.435)

The technicalities involved were explained to me by an officer of the United States Army Signal Corps, while a pretty W.A.C. Sergeant prepared to take a recording of what was said. (p.444)

The Americans furnished me, in case of need, with a stenographer, a blonde young lady of considerable personal attractions wearing a closely fitting tropical uniform… (p.466)

Most of them [the population of the little Serbian town of Dobrovo] were rosy-cheeked, stolid-looking creatures, broad in the beam, with thick arms and legs, but amongst them, I noticed, was one exceptionally pretty girl, slim and dark, with classical features and a clear, pale skin, holding a little curly-haired child by the hand. (p.492)

And many more.

Upper-class tact

A crucial aspect of good manners, as of diplomacy, is tact. As the book progressed I became increasingly aware of the narrative’s tact. What I mean is that he is very discreet and polite about the many individuals named in it. About his army colleagues, first in the SAS then on location in Yugoslavia, he is uniformly full of praise, especially praising those who won medals. He has to use tact when dealing with all manner of Soviet officials and local peasants and brigands in Central Asia. He has to be tactful in his dealings with Tito, and in Yugoslavia has to train his officers in how to interact with the partisans tactfully i.e. show them how to use equipment without insulting their manhood or achievements. (Maclean has some comic stories about illiterate partisans eating various supplies such as plastic explosive, stories echoed in Ben Macintyre’s stories about the French Resistance.)

This quality comes out into the open, as it were, in the various descriptions of Winston Churchill, where Maclean allows himself to mention Churchill’s eccentricities:

  • at Chequers insisting on spending the evening with senior military staff watching Mickey Mouse cartoons in his private cinema
  • meeting underlings at his Cairo villa lying in bed in a silk dressing gown smoking a cigar (p.401)

But he only goes exactly to the same point as the common myth of Churchill’s whimsical personal style and no further. He tells humorous anecdotes about people but is never indiscreet. That would be bad form.

Once this had occurred to me I realised you could regard the abrupt ending of the book as itself an act of tactfulness. If he’d gone on to describe events after his departure from Yugoslavia in March 1945 (the final months of the war, conflict with Russia, the Cold War and scores of other issues such as the election defeat of Churchill) it would have stained and muddied the purity of the kind of narrative he wants to tell. Ending his text so abruptly is an aesthetic statement – less is more – and supreme act of tactfulness.

H.G. Wells

Happening to be reading a lot about H.G. Wells at the moment, I was struck when Maclean makes a reference to him, describing the American Lightning aircraft, with their twin tails and bristling cannon, as ‘like something out of H.G. Wells’ (p.393) – presumably he’s referring to Wells’s Edwardian novels about the war in the air, although also, maybe, to his description of apocalyptic war in ‘The Shape of Things To Come’ (1933) – either way, testimony to the grip on the popular imagination, about the future and disastrous wars, that Wells continued to exert.

Penguin are pants

I’m reluctant to buy new paperback books because they’re generally such poor quality. This book is a case in point. The typeface was degraded and poor quality on every page. Random words appear in lighter typeface than their neighbours. Random letters within words are partly effaced. Entire lines have either the upper or lower part of the letters distorted. You know when you make a photocopy of a document and position the original badly so that the photocopy misses off one side of the page? Like that, the final parts of letters are cut off all down the right hand side of the text. Some pages are in a different font from the main text (pages 152 to 153).

Precisely 24 hours after it arrived I noticed that, looked at side-on, the middle pages of this brand new book had ceased to lie flat but had become wavy. When I opened to these pages I discovered they were the ones containing half a dozen or so very very very bad quality reproductions of photographs, and something about reproducing these photos in plain ink on normal paper must have somehow made them absorb moisture from the atmosphere and become wrinkled and creased. They look like they’ve been dropped in the bath.

Only occasionally did all this make it impossible to actually read, but these marks of poor quality appeared on every one of the book’s 543 pages and were a constant distraction. They made me think what a mug I was to spend £12.99 on such a shoddy production. Never buy new Penguin books. Very poor print standards.


Credit

Eastern Approaches by Fitzroy MacLean was published by Jonathan Cape in 1949. All references are to the 2019 Penguin paperback edition – printed to a very poor standard.

Related link

Related reviews

Islam’s Black Slaves: The Other Black Diaspora by Ronald Segal (2001)

al-asl huwa ‘l-hurriya
‘The basic principle is liberty’

Traditional Islamic jurisprudence assumes that everyone is free, based on the dictum: ‘The basic principle is liberty’ (al-‘asl huwa ‘l-hurriya). On this basis was slavery was an exceptional, and undesirable, condition.

Ronald Segal

Ronald Segal lived from 1932 to 2008. He was a white South African, born into a rich Jewish family. He became a committed socialist and anti-apartheid activist who fled South Africa after the 1960 Sharpeville Massacre. He was a political activist, writer and editor, founder of the anti-apartheid magazine Africa South and of the Penguin African Library. He wrote 17 books, including a biography of Leon Trotsky, though he is best known for The State of the World Atlas (first edition, 1981), co-founded with Michael Kidron. Islam’s Black Slaves was his last book. It was conceived as a companion to his previous book, 1995’s The Black Diaspora: Five centuries of the black experience outside Africa.

The link with McLynn and Jeal

I was moved to buy this rather expensive book because my reading of Frank McLynn and Tim Jeal‘s histories of European (mostly British) explorers in nineteenth century Africa sparked my interest in a number of issues, among them their repeated descriptions of the impact of the non-white Arab slave trade on East and Central Africa. (They also piqued my interest in a) the large number of white slaves captured by Islamic slave traders and b) the central role of the Royal Navy in quelling the sea-borne slave trade after 1833, both subjects I hope to explore soon.)

Islam’s Black Slaves

Both Jeal and Adam Hochschild‘s accounts show that the capturing of black slaves in East Africa was a bloody, brutal business, with entire villages laid waste and thousands murdered for every hundred or so slaves (mostly women and children) who were finally transported down the slave trails to the east coast of Africa (specifically to the slave trading island of Zanzibar, owned and run after 1840 by the Sultan of Oman on the Persian Gulf).

Eye witness descriptions of widespread devastation and the brutality of the slavers on pages 152 to 153, 156 to 157, 161.

The Atlantic slave trade

Slavery was probably part of pre-Islamic Arab life and economy.

Whereas the Atlantic slave trade only got going after 1500 as European explorers (at first mainly the Portuguese) visited the west coast of Africa, the slave trade in the realm of Islam existed since the 7th century, 900 years earlier. Whereas the British abolished the slave trade in 1807 and slavery itself in 1833, many Arab countries only formally banned slavery in living memory, Saudi Arabia and Yemen in 1962, Oman in 1970.

According to the BBC, Muslim traders exported as many as 17 million slaves to the coast of the Indian Ocean, the Middle East, and North Africa.

However 1) the Islamic trade in African slaves was always a lot smaller than the Atlantic slave trade, especially when the latter was at its height in the 18th century:

There was no extensive and long-sustained commitment of black slave labour to the scale of commercial plantation agriculture that absorbed so many millions of black slaves in the Americas. (p.42)

In part this was due to memories of the Zanj Rebellion (869 until 883) when black African slaves who were put to work draining the salt marshes around then present-day city of Basra in southern Iraq, rebelled, gathering more and more followers, slaves and free, and presenting a major threat to the Abbasid Caliphate (pages 43 to 44).

The rebellion had a lasting impact. The use of a large number of black slaves in plantation agriculture and irrigation schemes sharply declined; it was considered too dangerous. (p.44)

2) The Islamic attitude to black slaves was markedly different from that of white Europeans, in a number of ways.

The Atlantic slave trade, particularly as it escalated in the 18th century, was a key element in the development of industrial capitalism, generating the profits from sugar and tobacco plantations which was then invested in new technologies in Britain (p.106; cf Eric Hobsbawm in Industry and Empire). But what makes capitalism different from all other social and economic models is the relentless focus on profit. If you take this as the be-all and end-all of social effort, then human beings can quickly come to be seen as mere units of productivity or consumption, totted up on dry accounts books.

Thus, according to Segal, African slaves were treated as units of productions, like donkeys, horses or steam engines, stripped of any individuality, faceless drones whose lives and deaths meant nothing to their owners.

The treatment of slaves in Islam was overall more benign, in part because the values and attitudes promoted by religion inhibited the very development of a Western-style capitalism, with its effective subjugation of people to the priority of profit. (p.5)

He then discusses slavery’s place in Christianity, which is highly problematic. If Jesus meant what he said about the brotherhood of man and so on then slavery was an outrageous blasphemy against Christian teachings. This had two broad consequences.

1) Slave owners and their propagandists scoured the Bible to try and find justifications for slavery (blacks being the descendants of Ham, the son of Noah who cast him out and curses him after Ham, saw his father drunk and naked, etc); or they simply denied that blacks were fully human, using any pretext which presented itself to argue that Africans were animals, savages, lower down the evolutionary scale etc.

2) The other consequence was those brave Christians who applied Jesus’s teachings consistently and so opposed the slave trade, generally evangelical ‘low’ Christians who formed the backbone of the Abolitionist movement and whose story is told in Adam Hochschild’s moving book Bury the Chains: The British Struggle to Abolish Slavery.

Islam’s treatment of slaves

By contrast, slavery was accepted by the Prophet Mohammed and his successors but, being openly acknowledged, was provided for. Mohammed goes out of his way to insist that slaves be treated humanely. A slave’s master was enjoined:

  • not to show contempt for a slave
  • to share his food with a slave
  • to provide a slave as good clothes as his own
  • to set a slave moderate and achievable work
  • not to punish a slave excessively but forgive him ‘seventy times a day’

Of course slavery of any form is a wicked denial of the basic human rights of human beings as we now, in 2023, conceive of them. But Mohammed’s explicit insistence that slaves should be treated well established a venerable standard which all Muslim slave owners could be held to. Thus:

Slaves in the Ottoman empire were differently regarded and treated [than in the West]. In conformity with Islamic teaching and law, slaves were people who had stipulated rights. (p.106)

Two routes to slavery

According to the Prophet there were only two legitimate route to slavery: birth to a slave mother or capture in warfare (p.36). Warfare could only be against non-Muslims or infidels, as Muhammed assumed that Muslim would never fight Muslim, brother against brother. Enslavement of captives in war went some way towards repaying the losses of warfare but was also a means of assimilating and converting non-Muslims who could, ultimately, be freed.

Obviously these rules were flouted repeatedly through history, but at least there were rules, they were clear, and rulers could be held to account against them.

Islam’s anti-racism

There are other key distinctions between the two traditions. It follows from point 1) above, that the anxiety felt by European Christian slave traders and owners created and fuelled a vast ideology of racism. Christian slave owners could only square their consciences if they held to the view that black Africans were not fully human, less than human, or even a different species. Many, many commentators claim the legacy of these scandalous opinions lingers on today in numerous institutions and organisations and individuals.

The point is that the Prophet Muhammad explicitly forbade racism.

The Koran expressly condemns racism along with tribalism and nationalism. (p.6)

According to Arabist Bernard Lewis:

pagan and early Islamic Arabia seems to have shared the general attitude of the ancient world, which attached no stigma to blackness. (quoted p.46)

In his Farewell Sermon Muhammed said:

‘O people, your Lord is one and your father [Adam] is one. There is no superiority of an Arab over a non-Arab, nor a non-Arab over an Arab; no superiority of a white person over a black person, nor superiority of a black person over a white person – except in righteousness.’ (quoted p.46)

Indeed, the first official muezzin, personally appointed by Muhammed to proclaim adhan in Mecca, was Bilal ibn Ribah, an African slave who was emancipated when Abu Bakr (who was to be the first caliph or successor to the Prophet) paid his ransom on Muhammad’s instruction (p.46).

This, as I imperfectly understand it, is one of the great appeals of Islam through the ages. When a convert submits to Allah he or she joins the great international ulema, regardless of ethnicity or skin colour. This, as I understand it, explains the surge of interest in Islam among American black activists of the later 1960s such as Malcolm X, who thought the Christian tradition espoused by the Reverend Martin Luther King, was hopelessly compromised by its profound involvement in the slave trade for centuries.

Forty years later James Fergusson dwelled on the appeal of Islam to Somalis in his book ‘The World’s Most Dangerous Place: Inside the Outlaw State of Somalia’. He cites Gerald Hanley, a British officer who spent years among the northern Somali in the 1940s, who said:

‘Islam does wonders for the self-respect of non-white people.’ (quoted p.54)

Islam offers discipline, focus, purpose and self respect in people who feel themselves second or third-class citizens.

[Islam] continued to encompass slavery long after slaves had been freed throughout Christendom. But while slavery was practiced in Christendom and Islam alike, the freeing of individual slaves by their owners was much more frequent and widespread in Islam. This was of particular relevance to the social assimilation of blacks. As slaves, they were subject to no special racial discrimination in law; and, once freed, they enjoyed in law equal rights as citizens. (p.9)

Something very much not true of freed blacks in America and their descendants, arguably, to this day.

However, that was the theory, and Segal goes on to describe how Islamic social practice and attitudes often fell far short. He traces the emergence of anti-black attitudes which might be attributed to 1) the Zanj rebellion; 2) contempt for the mainly manual labour many black slaves were condemned to in a culture which prized intellectual achievement.

He then goes on to cite an impressive roster of medieval Islamic scholars who authoritatively declaimed a series of hair-raisingly racist generalisations against black Africans. A lot of this was repetition with elaboration of Galen’s founding racist generalisations from the third century of the Christian era.

By the Middle Ages the Arabic word ‘abd had come to denote black slave and mamluk to mean white slave (p.49).

A last point about the racism or absence arising from the Islamic slave trade. As mentioned, the Atlantic slave trade a) prioritised men, for hard manual labour and b) the European owners erected a severe race barrier, which involved legal and cultural denigration of Africans.

By contrast, the Islamic trade prioritised female slaves which led to greater miscegenation or inter-breeding. I wonder if anyone’s done research to discover how much ‘black DNA’ is present in the Arab population. I came across this website online: it claims the DNA of the typical Egyptian contains 3% of African genes, Kuwaitis are 7% African, Lebanese are 2% East African and so on. I’ve no idea if this is correct or scientifically meaningful.

But Segal definitely asserts that over 1,000 years of interbreeding between black Africans and Arabs produced a population many of whose members are racially indistinguishable – in stark contrast to the situation in North America where the visual distinction between black and white was fiercely enforced until well into the 20th century and so remains, to this day, much more prominent and problematic.

Islam’s slaves in the service sector

Slaves in the Atlantic system were, classically, regarded as units of production in a brutally capitalist system, worked to death on plantations. Thus it’s calculated that the slaves were transported in a ratio of 2 men to every woman, because sheer brute strength was required on the plantations.

Whereas slaves in the Islamic world tended to be employed in the name of consumption, often very conspicuous consumption, as Segal’s profiles of numerous immensely rich caliphs and Muslim rulers indicate. The very rich tended to have vast numbers of concubines, servants, attendants and whatnot, many of whom were slaves. Segal tells us that Ahmad b Tulun, the Tulunid ruler from 868 to 884, left at his death 24,000 white slaves and 45,000 black ones (p.54).

Essentially, the distinction between Western and Ottoman – indeed Islamic – slavery was that between the commercial and the domestic. (p.107)

Thus it is that the gender ratio was reversed, with an estimated two female slaves transported into the Islamic world for every male, as slaves were most commonly used for household work (most conspicuously, concubinage, which modern scholars might describe as sex slavery).

Lower down the social order, many slaves worked in the service sector as cooks, porters, secretaries and so on. There is much evidence that, although their capture in Africa was a violent and traumatic experience, once they ended up in Arab Muslim households, many slaves were treated well.

Slaves in Islamic armies

Some slaves were trained to serve as soldiers. This was the case with the Mamluks, an Arabic word which literally means ‘owned’ or ‘slave (p.31). These were non-Arab, ethnically diverse (mostly Turkic, Caucasian, Eastern and Southeastern European) enslaved mercenaries, slave-soldiers, and freed slaves who were assigned high-ranking military and administrative duties, serving the ruling Arab and Ottoman dynasties in the Muslim world.

Mamluks became a powerful military knightly class in various Muslim societies that were controlled by dynastic Arab rulers. Particularly in Egypt and Syria, but also in the Ottoman Empire, Levant, Mesopotamia, and India, mamluks held political and military power. In some cases, they attained the rank of sultan, while in others they held regional power as emirs or beys. Most notably, Mamluk factions seized the sultanate centred on Egypt and Syria, and controlled it as the Mamluk Sultanate from 1250 to 1517. The Mamluk Sultanate fought the Christian Crusaders in 1154 to 1169 and 1213 to 1221, effectively driving them out of Egypt and the Levant (p.31).

Segal’s discussion of slaves in Islamic armies pages 45 to 46.

Talking of one-time slaves rising to power, the longest reigning of the Fatimid Caliphs, al-Mustansir (1036 to 1094) was the son of a black Sudanese concubine, whose mother, because he only came to power when he was seven, was the real ruler of the Caliphate for the 15 years of his minority (p.51); and Segal gives other instances of Africans who rose to positions of high power, especially black eunuchs.

Islam’s releasing of slaves

The technical term in English is ‘manumission’, from the Latin, meaning simply ‘release from slavery’.

The Koran teaches that it is virtuous to free slaves. It says one of the uses of zakat, a pillar of Islam, which can be translated as ‘alms’, is to pay for the freeing of slaves:

‘Alms-tax is only for the poor and the needy, for those employed to administer it, for those whose hearts are attracted to the faith, for freeing slaves, for those in debt, for Allah’s cause, and for needy travellers. This is an obligation from Allah. And Allah is All-Knowing, All-Wise.
( Surah At-Tawbah 9:60)

Freeing your slaves can offset sins you have committed and hasten your entry to heaven.

‘The man who frees a Muslim slave, God will free him from hell, limb for limb.’ (quoted p.35)

The Koran describes a particular type of legal contract, the mukataba, which it encouraged slave owners to make with slaves, whereby they could work towards their freedom (p.36).

The Koran says slave owners can have sex with female slaves, but places on them an injunction to marry them off to male slaves, whereupon the husband has sole right. The Koran allots praise to a slave owner who educates his female slave, frees then marries her (p.36). Unlike America and other European colonies, it was expressly forbidden to separate slave mothers and their children.

Eunuchs

Islam expressly forbids mutilating the human body which is the image of God.

‘Whoever kills his slave, we will kill him; whoever mutilates (his slave), we will mutilate him; and whoever castrates his slave, we will castrate him.’ (Sunan an-Nasa’i 4736; Book 45, Hadith 31)

Nonetheless, eunuchs became an engrained part of wealthy Islamic culture and pious Muslims got around the ruling by having infidels do the castrating. Thus during the Middle Ages Prague and Verdun became castration centres supplying eunuchs to the Islamic market (p.40).

Possession of eunuchs was just one sign of the extraordinary conspicuous consumption which distinguished medieval Islam. Thus, Segal tells us, at the start of the 10th century, when Alfred the Great’s muddy successors were still fighting the invading Danes in East Anglia, the Caliph in Baghdad had seven thousand black eunuchs and 4,000 white ones, in his palace (p.41).

Vivid, stomach-turning description of castrating a boy (p.171).

Numbers and routes

There were three main routes of black African slaves into Islam:

  1. across the Sahara
  2. from Ethiopia across the Red Sea
  3. from East Africa

Segal cites the calculations of scholars like Ralph Austen and Paul Lovejoy who estimate that the total number of black Africans trafficked into the Islamic world between 650 and the twentieth century as 11 to 12 million. Raymond Mauvy calculates 14 million. This is directly comparable to the 11 or so million calculated to have been transported in the far shorter period of the Atlantic slave trade (pages 55 to 57). Scholar H.J. Fisher is quoted as saying the total number of black slaves transported in the Islamic slave trade was probably larger than the number involved in the Atlantic slave trade (p.61).

Segal points out that enormous though these numbers sound, the 14 million figure ‘only’ works out 10,370 slaves per year. All scholars agree that the 19th century saw a dramatic increase in volume in slave trading (in 1838 an estimated to 10 to 12 thousand slaves were arriving in just Egypt, each year), so the chances are that the figures for the previous 11 centuries are lower, a guesstimate of maybe 7,000 per annum (p.60).

Importantly, these numbers exclude the internal black-on-black slave trade, the intra-Africa slave trade. So, controversially, they don’t include the vast numbers of slaves captured in East Africa and transported to Zanzibar, owned by an Arab elite, to work on the clove plantations. Segal cites the figure of about a million black slaves set to work in Zanzibar during the nineteenth century. If you included the intra-African trade, the total would go up by at least 2 million.

If you add the Atlantic and the Islamic trades, you end up with a figure of around 25 million black Africans captured and taken off into slavery.

We will never know the precise numbers. All we can do, in this as so many other aspects of human history, is marvel, or reel, at the thought of so much human suffering.

Non-black slaves

Most of the above concerns black slaves. But Islamic rulers conquered and enslaved or bought slaves from many other ethnicities. Thus countless numbers of Turkish and Circassian people were enslaved, as were Slavs and others from the Balkans. Someone somewhere must have done research into this. Segal only mentions it in passing.

Chapters

The foregoing summarises the first 70 or so pages of the book, dealing in general principles, overall numbers and so on. Subsequent chapters deal with:

Chapter 5. The Farther Reaches

China

Segal brings together fleeting references to black people in medieval and early modern sources. Chinese porcelain has been found in ruined trading towns on the East African coast. There’s no records of an organised trade.

India

Islam expanded into north-west India through armed conquest. It brought black slaves, mainly for military service. They called themselves Sayyad, corrupted to Siddis who, when liberated, set up small kingdoms of their own, became employed as security on Muslim ships, some rose to become admirals. The story of the rise to power of Malik Ambar (1548 to 1626), a military leader who rose to the office of Peshwa of the Ahmadnagar Sultanate in the Deccan region of India, his military and cultural achievements.

Spain

North African Muslims invaded Spain in 611, overrunning almost the entire peninsula (apart from Galicia) by 620. The resulting kingdom of al-Andalus grew to legendary wealth. Black slaves were imported from Africa, but the realm was also famous for exporting white slaves from Gaul and Galicia. It became a centre for castrating male slaves to provide eunuchs (p.80). The career of the black poet and arbiter of taste, Ziryab (789 to 857).

Chapter 6. Into Black Africa

A very detailed look at the different routes of slave traders and the slave trade into the Islamic world, from Ethiopia across the Red Sea, from the coast of East Africa. Segal gives a long complicated account of the rise and histories of various black African empires in west Africa – the empires of Ghana, Mali, the Kanem and Songhai empires – many of whose rulers converted to Islam, and the complex history of black slaving along the major trans-Sahara slaving routes. It’s a complex, unfamiliar history.

Chapter 7. The Ottoman Empire

Of all the empires that rose and fell within the Islamic world, the Ottoman was the largest and longest lasting. Segal uses the Ottoman empire to really point the difference in attitudes to slavery between the Christian West and the Muslim East. Although many slaves may have held domestic positions in the Americas and some been released, the fundamental difference was the slaves in the West were used as units of production by fast-evolving capitalism. Whereas in the East, although some slaves were used in labour-intensive plantations and proto-factories, the majority were for domestic consumption. Plus the East had a more generous policy of freeing slaves. Many civil servants or soldiers who were, technically, slaves of the Sultan rose to become generals and governors (p.106).

He makes the simple crucial point that while the West pursued a model of nationalistic capitalism which encouraged aggressively competitive trade and enshrined in law the unbridled pursuit of profit, the Ottoman Empire cleaved to Islam’s disdain for trade, prioritising of military glory or scholarly achievement and its active discouragement, in law, of the kind of profit-seeking sought in the West. Merchants accumulated capital but their culture mandated them to use it charitably, to establish schools or hospitals. Lacking a central bank, or banks in general, which could be used to redistribute capital from its owners to speculative ventures, lacking the complex legal framework and definitions of property and company law which enabled Western capitalism, the Ottoman Empire condemned itself to slow decline.

While social, political and, above all, economic innovation swept the West, the Ottoman empire remained steeped in sterile ceremonial. (p.116)

Segal gives a lot of detail of Ottoman history, especially the role of black eunuchs at the highest level of the Ottoman court. As to general black slavery, there was a substantial and continuous trade but records are scanty.

He credits the British in particular for pressuring the Ottoman Turks to end slavery in their empire. In 1846 the slave market in Constantinople was closed. In 1855 moves to ban slavery throughout the empire led to a violent revolt in Arabia, led by an imam who declared the ban unIslamic. The revolt was put down but when the ban was promulgated, it made Arabia an exception, to the area continued to be a base for slavers. Slavery was banned in 1889 but kept its place in Sharia law. In 1923 the modern state of Turkey replaced the empire, with secular law banning slavery.

Chapter 8. The ‘Heretic’ State: Iran

Segal gives a thumbnail sketch of Persia’s resistance to Arab rule which came to be embodied in its espousal of a distinct brand of Islam, Shia Islam or Shiaism. There is scant evidence of black slavery in Iran; what there is suggests black slaves enjoyed good treatment and high status in households, especially of the wealthy. An English lady traveller speculated that between two and three thousand African slaves were imported each year (p.123).

A scholar estimates the number of slaves in mid-19th century Iran as 80,000. As late as 1898 the Anti-Slavery Society estimated up to 50,000 slaves in Persia. As with the Ottoman Empire, from the 1820s onwards the British brought pressure to bear to end the slave trade, but the exemption of Arabia allowed it to continue as a conduit of African slaves into Iran. Only in 1882 did the Persian government renounce slavery in a treaty signed imposed by Britain (p.126). Only in 1907 did the new National Assembly enact a law ensuring universal freedom.

Segal makes the interesting point that, as in the USA, colour prejudice might have intensified after the abolition of slavery.

Chapter 9. The Libyan Connection

The black slave trade into the semi-Ottoman state of Tripolitania. In 1818 a Royal Navy captain, G.F. Lyon, observed that the ruling Bey waged war on all his neighbours and carried away 5,000 slaves a year. Segal cites scholar Ralph Austen whose detailed calculations suggest that from 1550 to 1913 some 784,000 black slaves were transported through Libya. Given a 20% death rate on the journey from the South, this suggests 942,000 black Africans were kidnapped and enslaved by Arab and Muslim traders working the Tripoli route (there were numerous other routes).

In 1930 a Danish traveller to Libya reported that there was a slave market every Thursday in Kufra and a good adult slave cost £15.

Chapter 10. The Terrible Century

The nineteenth century saw an increase in volume and intensity of Islamic slaving across north and east Africa. In 1808 Britain withdrew from the slave trade and set about persuading other European nations to do the same. Britain also began to intervene in the Muslim world to abolish the trade, but tentatively, mindful of Muslim sensibilities.

East Africa

A European visitor stated that, around 1810, almost the entire income of the state of Oman derived from taxes on the slave trade. In 1840 the Sultan of Oman moved his court to the island of Zanzibar, main entrepot on the west of the Indian Ocean, principle outlets for black slaves captured in the interior.

By the 1840s up to 15,000 slaves a year were being trade. The Sultan himself needed huge numbers to work his clove plantations. In the 1850s it’s estimated that Zanzibar’s population included 60,000 slaves. A quarter of the Sultan’s income was said to derive from the trade.

The British protected the Sultan as their client but brought consistent pressure on him to abolish the trade. He signed a series of treaties to that effect but in the 1860s the British consul reported that 30,000 slaves were arriving annually at the coastal ports, some for Zanzibar, some shipped north to the Gulf. He also reported that for every slave who reached the coast alive, one had died en route. Other accounts claimed a far higher number.

Many of the slavers, the leaders of expeditions to attack and massacre African settlements, then take away prisoners in chains, were either Arab or, very commonly, of mixed Afro-Arab ethnicity. Segal, again, draws the distinction between the behaviour of the slavers, which was brutal and murderous, and slaves’ treatment in their destination households, which was often kind as per Islamic lore.

Sudan and Egypt

Khartoum was originally a small fishing village at the junction of the White and Blue Niles. After Sudan it was conquered by the Ottoman viceroy, Muhammed Ali, in 1840, it was turned into a major entrepot for African slaves. By 1838 12,000 black slaves were being imported into Egypt annually. Beyond the reach of the Egyptian authorities operated the Ja’aliyin, who raided west into Darfur and south into tropical Africa until well into the 1890s.

Huge enclosures for slaves were established in Cairo, where many died of smallpox and other infectious diseases. For every slave that made it to Cairo, it’s estimated that 5 died along the way (p.151). General Gordon calculated that in the area of Bahr el-Ghazal between 1875 and 1879, up to 100,000 slaves had been exported north. European explorers found entire areas which had been devastated and emptied of their populations by slavers (pages 152 to 153, 156 to 157, 161). Only in 1883, when Britain occupied Egypt, were they able to start cracking down on the trade. By 1904 the Viceroy, Lord Cromer, could claim that the systematic slave trade had been eradicated.

Ethiopia and Arabia

Slavery in Ethiopia thrived for centuries. Up to 500 slaves were sold at the market at Gallabat every day. King Menelik was alleged to take a 10% cut in the trade i.e. gifted one slave in ten. Most were sent across the sea to Arabia. After the Ottoman Sultan banned it, the trade increased because it was no longer taxed. A British reporter estimated in 1878 that 25,000 slaves a year were sold in Mecca and Medina and the trade continued into the early 1900s.

The trade through Kenya was ended when the British created the East Africa Protectorate in 1895. Slavery was only legally abolished in Zanzibar in 1897.

West Africa

Segal describes a confusing profusion of kingdoms and rulers, Muslim jihads, insurgencies, overthrows and new rulers, all across west Africa in the 18th and 19th centuries. The point is all of them engaged in the slave trade, sending slaves north into Muslim Arab lands, or collecting them for their own grandeur. As the nineteenth century raiding became more intense and destructive, not least due to growing access to Western arms, which resulted in the devastation of entire regions. It’s instructive to learn that black on black slave trading continued energetically right to the end of the nineteenth century and beyond. A French agent on the Senegal river reported that in 1889 some 13,000 slaves were transported along the river.

Chapter 11. Colonial Transactions

Northern Nigeria

The British claimed the former Sokoto Caliphate in 1906, naming it north Nigeria. Segal describes the economic, legal and social reforms which led to the erosion of slavery, not only the banning of the institution but the economic development of the colony which gave peasants paid work.

French Soudan

In 1848 the French National Assembly abolished slavery in all her colonies. But it wasn’t until 1905 that the Governor-General of French West Africa decreed an end to the slave trade and any person losing their liberty (p.181). The data suggests that slaves made their way back to their former towns and villages.

Mauritania

As the cost of accepting French rule (1905 to 1910), the leaders of inland tribes in this part of north-west Africa demanded that traditional tribal laws about slavery remain. Colonial attitudes and Islamic law favoured masters in this largely nomadic population. Drought and famine in the 1930s then again after the war, forced many to offer themselves as slaves in order to secure food.

Somalia

Italy seized part of Somaliland in 1892. They made noises about banning slavery but in 1903 a third of the population of Mogadishu were slaves. In 1906 when Italy took full control of the colony, they estimated the slave population at 30,000. When they freed the slaves in the city, the Italians discovered it led to unemployment and beggary, so were slower to act in the countryside. A complicated mesh of laws followed until the Fascists took power in 1922 and passed laws designed to liberate slaves but force them into low-paid labour on plantations.

Zanzibar and the Kenyan Coast

In 1890 the British declared the Sultanate a Protectorate but it wasn’t until 1897 that they passed legislation allowing slaves to claim their freedom and then take-up was patchy because for many ‘freedom’ meant loss of employment and home. Employers and ex-slaves had to negotiate new relations. Employers raised pay, many ex-slaves squatted on waste land or the edge of plantations. The authorities struggled with increased vagrancy, drunkenness and delinquency. The British supported the Arab minority, as small as 5% of the population, because they owned the land and the clove plantations. Resentment against this privileged minority would boil over at independence.

In Kenya Segal describes the long-running problem of ex-slaves who became squatters, had families, established squatter settlements, especially along the coast where there was likely to be more work, a problem which troubled the British authorities and carried on past independence in 1963.

In Zanzibar and along the coast anti-Arab feeling grew and in 1961 there were violent African-Arab riots which left 68 dead. In the election held after the British left, the Arab party won a majority through blatant vote-rigging. This led in January 1964 to an outbreak of politically-motivated African violence which massacred Arabs and seized property, overthrowing the Arab Sultan for good. As many as 4,000 Arabs were killed in the streets. President of Tanganyika, Julius Nyerere, offered the revolutionary leadership a union with their mainland neighbour and so the country of Tanzania was born.

Chapter 12. Survivals of Slavery

Stories of the ongoing existence of black slavery in Arab states such as Qatar, Oman, Saudi Arabia, Dubai and Muscat. As recently as 1982 accusations that black Africans travelling to Mecca are captured and sold. On the west coast, evidence that African girls are trafficked to Lebanon.

Mauritania

At the time of writing the secretive government of Mauritania kept up slavery, with as many as a third of the population of about 2.5 million enslaved. Segal moves into the present era with a description of the racist activities of the Arab Islamic Mauritanian government in deporting, arresting, executing and generally harassing Mauritanians of black ethnicity. Especially the 1989 Mauritania–Senegal Border War which led to the expulsion of some 70,000 sub-Saharan African Mauritanians from the country. Wikipedia:

Modern-day slavery still exists in different forms in Mauritania. According to some estimates, thousands of Mauritanians are still enslaved. A 2012 CNN report, ‘Slavery’s Last Stronghold’, documents the ongoing slave-owning cultures. This social discrimination is applied chiefly against the ‘black Moors’ (Haratin) in the northern part of the country, where tribal elites among ‘white Moors’ (Bidh’an, Hassaniya-speaking Arabs and Arabized Berbers) hold sway. Slavery practices exist also within the sub-Saharan African ethnic groups of the south.

Sudan

The civil war in Sudan between the Arab north and the African Christian or animist south lasted for 40 years after independence in 1956. In 1972 the south was granted regional autonomy. South Sudan finally became an independent country in July 2011. Segal masters evidence for the ongoing practice of slavery in Sudan, generally practiced by Arabs on black Africans (pages 216 to 222). He mentions Christian Solidarity International which undertakes missions to buy slaves their freedom. At the time of writing CSI had freed more than 20,000 slaves, at an average price of $50 each.

Epilogue. America’s black Muslim backlash

This was by far the easiest part of the book to read and for a reason I often remark on – because it’s about America and we in the UK are bombarded with American culture, history and values. So when he writes about racism in Detroit or Harlem, about the Civil Rights Movement and Martin Luther King, these are people and places and issues I feel superfamiliar with, from books and TV shows, documentaries and radio programmes and movies, exhibitions, art and photography.

Whereas the information about the trans-Sahara slave routes or the rise and fall of the various empires of west Africa or even the history of Islamic Spain were just some topics I knew next to nothing about and found very informative indeed, and all the more rewarding for being so radically unfamiliar.

Reading the stuff here about the Nation of Islam and Malcolm X reminded me of watching the movie starring Denzel Washington, plus documentaries, plus articles, all (over)familiar stuff. Whereas I know nothing about the Fulani or the Hausa kings, about the Oyo empire or the royal court of Bornu, about Usman dan Fodio or Muhammed al-Amin al-Kanami or Yusuf Pasha of Tripoli. Here is a huge subject (the history of north and west Africa) of which I am pitifully ignorant, and need to learn more.

Thoughts

The biggest, general thought prompted by the book is the ubiquity of slavery, among all nations and all ethnicities, throughout most of history. The chapter on the Ottoman Empire routinely describes the numbers of white slaves seized from the Balkans in the Sultan’s palace, or more broadly. The chapter on Iran mentions that Iranians were themselves taken as slaves by the Ottomans to the West or the Uzbeks to the north. Iranians in turn seized Christian Armenians or Circassians.

Next is the Big Idea that slavery in Islamic was qualitatively different than the Western and Atlantic form, as described above.

Third thing is the leading role played by Britain throughout the nineteenth century in trying to stamp out slavery, across North Africa, in the Turkish heartlands, in Iraq and Persia, and along the East African coast. In all these places British diplomats, backed up by the Royal Navy, tried to stamp out the Arab slave trade.

Lastly, and tangentially, Segal’s passage about West Africa and its empires (chapter 10) was illuminating in itself, but also made me wish I could find a good, affordable account of France’s empire in Africa, not just the well-covered Algeria, but countries like Mauritania, Senegal, Mali, Guinea, Ivory Coast, Burkina Faso, Benin, Niger and Gabon, French Congo, the Central African Republic and Chad, which we in the Anglosphere never hear about.


Credit

Islam’s Black Slaves: The Other Black Diaspora by Ronald Segal was first published by Farrar, Strauss and Giroux in 2001. All references are to the 2002 paperback edition from the same publisher.

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The Battle for Syria: International Rivalry in the New Middle East by Christopher Phillips (revised edition, 2020)

There are quite a few book-length studies of the Syrian Civil War. The distinctive thing about this one is that academic and author Christopher Phillips insists that other regional countries weren’t ‘drawn into’ the conflict once it had got going but, on the contrary, were involved right from the start, helped to exacerbate the initial protests into a civil war, and then were vital elements which ensured that the war continued and has proven impossible to end. The six countries he considers the key players and interveners are the US, Russia, Turkey, Iran, Saudi Arabia and Qatar, each of whose motivations and actions are considered at great and fascinating length.

Disaster

He opens with the claim that the Syrian civil war is the greatest human disaster of the 21st century. Over 500,000 have been killed, as many as 1.9 million wounded. Over 5 million have fled the country and 6 million been internally displaced i.e. more than half the pre-war population of 21 million. By 2013 Syria had regressed 40 years in social development. By 2015 half Syria’s schools had closed, half its children didn’t attend school, over 80% of Syrians were living in poverty, 30% in abject poverty. The average life expectancy of a Syrian dropped from 70 to 55 in four years.

The Arab Spring

The Syrian civil war began as part of the Arab Spring at the start of 2011. The whole thing kicked off when Tunisian street vendor Mohamed Bouazizi set himself on fire on 17 December 2010 in Sidi Bouzid, Tunisia, as a protest against yet another act of petty harassment and humiliation inflicted on him by municipal officials, the kind of low-level harassment most people in most Arab countries have had to put up with all their lives. When news got around, Bouazizi’s act inspired street demonstrations in Tunisia which then spread west to Morocco and East to Libya, Egypt, Yemen, Jordan and Syria, and on into Bahrain and Oman in the Gulf. What all these places had in common was they were ruled by small elites run by old men who had gathered power and money to themselves, their families and followers, resulting in grossly unequal societies which, above all, had large youth unemployment.

The unrest was to lead to the overthrow of corrupt old rulers – Zine El Abidine Ben Ali in Tunisia, Muammar Gaddafi in Libya, Hosni Mubarak in Egypt. And yet the newish, youngish leader of Syria, Bashar al-Assad, managed to not only contain the protests, even as they escalated in scale and violence, but, 12 years later, is still very much in place, discredited ruler of a permanently devastated Syria. Why? This is the basic question Phillips sets out to address in this long, thorough and engrossing study. First some background.

Modern Syria

Modern Syria’s boundaries were drawn up by French politicians after the Great War when, in the light of the collapse of the Ottoman Empire, the area known as the Middle East was carved up by the victors, France and Britain. Britain got Arabia, Palestine and Iraq; the French got Lebanon and Syria.

Syria, like Lebanon, was a complex web of religious, ethnic and cultural groups, including Shia Muslims, Sunni Muslims, Christians (10%), Kurds in the north and east (10%), Alawites (a spin-off of Shia Islam; under 10%), Druze, with pockets of Turkmen and Aramaic speakers, Circassians and Armenians.

Between the wars

Syria and France negotiated a treaty of independence in September 1936 but France fell to the Nazis before it could be implemented. Syria came under the control of Vichy France until the British and Free French occupied the country in the Syria-Lebanon campaign in July 1941. The British forced the French to evacuate their troops in April 1946 and give Syria independence – events covered in James Barr’s excellent book, A Line In The Sand: Britain, France and the Struggle That Shaped the Middle East.

As in so many post-colonial countries, the parliamentary institutions left by the colonial masters were weak while the army emerged as the strongest national institution. There followed a bewildering series of coups, eight in total between 1946 and 1968. In 1958 Syria joined the United Arab Republic with Egypt but left this union in 1961 after another coup. In 1963 came the decisive coup, carried out by the Arab Socialist Ba’ath Party.

The Ba’ath party has ruled Syria as a totalitarian one-party state ever since, taking control of all aspects of education, culture and religion. It maintains its grip through the powerful Mukhabarat (secret police). In 1966 there was an intra-party rebellion against the Ba’athist Old Guard. In 1970 the last of these disruptions took place, when the formal head of state was overthrown in November 1970 by Defence Minister Hafiz al-Assad. Assad instituted a cult of personality, his face plastered on public hoardings, his voice dominating radio and TV, state propaganda declaring he and his family would rule in perpetuity. Hence political slogans such as ‘Assad or We Burn the Country’.

Brief mention of the various wars with Israel during this period, the 1973 war as a result of which Israel occupied the Golan Heights in the far south of Syria; the long series of troubles in Lebanon, namely its civil war 1975 to 1990, the Israeli invasion of 1982 and so on. Most relevant event of Hafiz’s rule was his assault on the city of Hama which was taken over in a rising led by the Muslim Brotherhood, and which he proceeded to raze to the ground, killing up to 40,000 civilians with another 100,000 deported.

Hafiz al-Assad ruled as a brutal dictator till his death from a heart attack in 2000. He groomed his oldest son, Bassel, to succeed him but Bassel died in a car crash in 1994, whereupon Assad recalled his second son, Bashir, who was studying to be an opthalmologist in London, and quickly promoted him through the ranks of the army.

There’s no time to go into detail about the troubled history of the region during Assad’s 30 years in power: enough to mention the 1973 Yom Kippur War when Syria and Egypt united to attack Israel and lost. In 1975 the civil war began in the Lebanon which Assad was closely involved in, and which was to drag on for 15 blood years. Assad deployed the Syrian army to the country, maintaining an armed presence until 2005.

The Cold War

Phillips is an academic. This means he likes to identify issues and then cite conflicting interpretations or opinions about them. Thus, he tells us, it was received wisdom that, during the long Cold War, Middle Eastern states sided with one or other of the two superpowers. Saudi Arabia, the Gulf States and Israel leaned towards America; the more Arab nationalist regimes, such as Egypt, Syria and Iraq, had stronger ties with the Soviet Union.

It’s about here in the narrative that Phillips starts to weigh rival interpretations of established narratives, citing modern scholars who claim that, contrary to Cold War conventions, the countries of the region always had their own agendas and only called on support from each super power as it suited them. Apparently it is a ‘globalist’ view to think of the Middle East as one more region in which the Superpower rivalry played out; it is the ‘regionalist’ view to say that local countries had more agency than the simple Cold War model allows. So, for example, Syria and Egypt attacked Israel in 1973 against the wishes of their Soviet sponsor; in 1982 Israel invaded south Lebanon against the wishes of its American patron (p.16).

America the only superpower in the 1990s

America has had a long ill-fated involvement in the Middle East, above all, of course, supporting Israel, making periodic attempts to find some solution to the Israeli-Palestine conflict. Phillips suggests that between the fall of the Soviet Union and the American invasion of Iraq in 2003, America was credited with having emerged as the world’s only superpower, creating a ‘unipolar’ world, and emboldening the country to intervene in conflicts such as the First Gulf War, Somalia, former Yugoslavia and so on.

Effects of the Iraq War

However, this received opinion was seriously damaged by the American invasion of Iraq in 2003 in which it slowly became clear to all the region’s countries that America was not the superpower everyone had thought it to be, far from it. America had lots of money and men but turned out to be staggeringly incompetent, and easily pinned down by local insurgencies. America’s bluff was called. The superpower was cut down to size. Phillips itemises the seriously destabilising impacts of the Iraq War:

1. Rise of Iran

Iran was the great winner of the invasion of Iraq. Saddam, a Sunni, had imposed his rule on Iraq which is a majority Shia nation. Once he was overthrown and something like democratic elections were held, then Shia parties and Shia religious leaders quickly came to the fore. Many of these had spent decades in exile in Shia Iran, owed their lives, livelihoods, rise to power to Iranian sponsors, militias, to the Iranian Revolutionary Guard. The most notable example was Nouri al-Maliki, who had been an exile in Iran and went on to become Prime Minister of Iraq from 2006 to 2014, implementing aggressively pro-Iranian, pro-Shia policies (which helped to stoke the Sunni resistance). At every level Iraqi political life came to be dominated by Shia Iran.

2. The Kurds become players

Except for the Kurds, who lived in and, as a result of the overthrow of Saddam, got to run the northern third of Iraq. The Kurdish guerrilla movements had fought Saddam Hussein throughout his brutal rule (1968 to 2003). As Iraq sank into sectarian civil war (Shia against Sunni) the Kurds effectively sealed off their northern part of the country from the madness of the Arab south. The success of the Kurds in Iraq emboldened their brother groups and militias in Syria and Turkey.

3. Saudi Arabia stirs

Back to Iran: the rise of Iranian power and influence in Iraq sparked paranoia among Sunni states, none more so than Saudi Arabia. About 15% of Saudi’s population is Shia, mostly living in its eastern provinces which, coincidentally, is also where the oil is. Through the 1970s, 80s and 90s the Saudi regime was happy to fund Saddam Hussein who acted as a Sunni barrier against Iranian ambitions. They funded his long ruinous war against the new Iranian Islamic revolutionary regime, the Iran-Iraq war 1980 to 1988. Phillips calls it a policy of ‘dual containment’. However, Saddam burned his boats when, having brought his country to the brink of bankruptcy, he invaded Kuwait in 1990, thus forfeiting the aid he’d been receiving from Saudi and the Gulf states.

Since Saddam was removed in 2003, Saudi has found itself combating the ever-growing influence of the regional superpower, Iran. Phillips points out that it’s not just power, or the Shia religion, that threaten the Saudis, but the fact that revolutionary Iran embodies a radically different political model. The Saudis are run by an old-style hereditary monarchy, conservative and repressive. Iran presents a completely different religio-political model, with far larger elements of democracy and popular say. This model represents a threat to the Saudi model (p.19).

The rise of the Saudi-Iranian rivalry was perhaps the most dramatic regional shift caused by the Iraq war… (p.20)

4. Rising sectarianism

Talk of Saudi and Iran raises the issue of Muslim sectarianism i.e. the radicalisation of religion. The Americans converted Iraq from being a secular dictatorship which kept a tight check on religious extremism into a hotbed for all kinds of Islamic fanaticism (p.22). Al Qaeda moved into Iraq and grew hugely, countless other sectarian militias were set up and carried out brutal ethnic cleansings. Then, in the early chaos of the Syrian civil war, ISIS arose, mostly led by former Al Qaeda in Iraq soldiers, themselves former officers in Saddam’s army, made homeless when Paul Bremer sacked the entire Iraqi Army.

Why the Arab Spring failed in Syria

Phillips doesn’t make the comparison with Libya but I find if pretty obvious. The Libyans managed to get rid of their dictator, Muammar Gaddafi, but failed to replace him with one unitary government; instead Libya has collapsed into two rival governments because the opposition wasn’t strong or united enough to enforce unity. Same with Syria. There was much opposition to Assad’s regime but a) it was very split along regional, ethnic and sectarian lines and b) the regime managed to keep support from a wide enough range of groups, probably, in the end, the majority of the population which, although not keen on Assad’s repressive regime, feared the alternative i.e. chaos.

For this fear of chaos was another legacy of the Iraq War. Assad simply had to remind his people what had happened next door, in neighbouring Iraq, when an established dictator was overthrown i.e. chaos, sectarian massacre, ethnic cleansing and civil war. Probably the entire Alawi population rallied behind him (10 to 13%), as did the Orthodox Christian minority (8%). The Kurds took the opportunity to rebel but that just reinforced conservative fears that the rebellion would lead to the country’s collapse.

As I understand it, the one key decider for the fate of Arab Spring protests was whether the army and security services went over to the protesters or not. In Tunisia and Egypt they did and the old rulers were overthrown. In Libya it was a split, some did, some didn’t and the country collapsed. In Syria, the army and the network of security services referred to as the Mukhabarat was closely allied with Assad and remained loyal.

As to the splits in the Syrian opposition, this reached almost ludicrous levels, with virtually every town and village in rebel areas setting up their own councils, while a congeries of umbrella groups made up of exiled politicians, based in Turkey, Saudi or Qatar, fought to claim leadership of the movement. Phillips has one hugely telling statistic. At the peak of confusion in the Lebanon Civil War there were some 30 identifiable named militias; whereas, by 2013, a US centre identified 1,050 anti-Assad brigades and 3,250 smaller companies (p.127). It was, and is, like herding sheep.

The Kurds

For a century the Kurds in Iran, Iraq, Syria and Turkey have been seeking, in one form or another, some kind of autonomy if not a self-ruling state. The Kurds make up to 10% of the population of Syria, about 10% of the population of Iran, 18% of Turkey and 20% of Iraq. But as well as engaging in permanent conflict with the Turkish army, enduring periodic genocidal assaults by Assad in Syria and especially Saddam in Iraq, the Kurds have often been divided among themselves.

Phillips gives a clear account of the confusing manoeuvring of Kurdish groups on page 111. In May a Kurdish National Movement was formed which brought together 17 different political parties including the Democratic Union Party or PYD, Syria’s branch of the long-established Kurdish separatist party, the PKK. This broke down because of PYD demands and was replaced in October by the Kurdish National Council, which was more enduring but only contained 10 of the original 17 groups and not the PYD.

The PYD’s militia was named the People’s Defense Units or the YPG. When Assad forces withdrew from some areas held by the YPG, other Kurdish groups and Gulf backers accused it of being in league with Assad, something it strongly denied.

When the Syrian National Council was formed in August 2011 as an umbrella for opposition groups it refused to remove the word ‘Arab’ from its motto of calling for a ‘Syrian Arab Republic’, thus prompting a walkout by the Kurdish delegates. Despite repeated attempts at mediation both sides have refused to compromise. So you get the picture. It is with the Kurds, as with the Arabs in general, a picture of endless bickering disagreement.

Not only this but there is interference from Kurds outside Syria. The collapse of the state in Iraq led to the creation of a Kurdish autonomous area in northern Iraq, but rule of this was contested between the Iraqi branch of the Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK), a hard-core Marxist-Leninist guerrilla movement, and the Kurdistan Democratic Party (KDP), a much more conservative nationalist movement, led by Masoud Barzani. So, very broadly speaking, the Kurds were at odds with their Arab partners in the opposition to Assad, and were also divided among themselves.

ISIS

However, the Kurds received a boost in 2014 after the catastrophic fall of Mosul, the main city in northern Iraq, to Islamic State, because this triggered the Americans to become involved. Barack Obama’s administration refused to intervene in the war against Assad but was prepared to give direct support to the YPG in its battles against ISIS. The Americans supplied and organised the fierce campaign, fought 2016 to 2017, to seize back the city of Raqqa in north-eastern Syria, which had become the Islamic State’s de facto capital.

Turkey

The situation of the Kurds is, of course, complicated by numerous external factors, the most obvious of which is that Turkish governments of all flavours remain vehemently opposed to the slightest flicker of Kurdish independence and so have declared the YPG a terrorist organisation, in this respect aligning it with the much more long-established Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK), which actually has carried out terrorist attacks, for example, on police stations, in Turkey.

It was concern about the ‘infection’ of Kurdish independence spreading from Kurdish autonomous regions which led Turkey to invade and occupy key areas in the north of Syria, where Turkish forces remain to this day.

Outside forces

1. US

Barack Obama was US President 2009 to 2017. The criticism made of his foreign policy was that he was too optimistic (thought other leaders were as rational and consensual as him) and believed America had more power than the Iraq invasion showed that it actually does.

Regarding Syria, Phillips records how the Obama administration, after initial caution, moved by August 2011 to call for Assad to go. This was what Phillips calls a ‘conflict escalator’: it misled everyone. It misled the Russians and everyone in the region into thinking America might be about to intervene (as in Libya) to arm the opposition and force Assad’s overthrow; thus stiffening Russia’s support for Assad. It stiffened the resolve of opposition groups who thought America would soon come riding to their rescue. It stiffened the resolve of the Assad regime hard-liners who thought they had nothing to lose by behaving more brutally.

Then there’s the issue of intelligence and leverage. America had been bankrolling the Egyptian state for 50 years or so, paying for its food and bankrolling its army. Therefore America had many levers to pull when they decided it was time for long-serving Egyptian president Hosni Mubarak (president from 1981 to 2011) to go.

But the Americans then mistakenly thought they would have the same kind of influence in Syria which, on the contrary, was a) a much more closed repressive regime than Egypt b) had been a Soviet client state since the Ba’ath took power. I.e. the Americans found it easy to topple Mubarak, impossible to topple Assad.

In 2012 Secretary of State Hillary Clinton and head of the CIA David Petraeus presented a plan to vet, train and equip opposition groups (p.143). Obama rejected it and some critics said ever afterwards that this was a lost opportunity to give the rebels the boost they needed to overthrow the dictator and a decade of misery would have been prevented. Phillips, here as everywhere, is enjoyably measured and balanced. He presents the counter-arguments that a) however much the US had given rebel groups events went on to show that Russia and Iran would have matched and superseded it; b) though Clinton et al reassured the Prez that the arms would only go to the good guys and not fall into the hands of ‘extremists’, they would have c) America spent a fortune vetting, training and equipping the police force and armies in both Iraq and Afghanistan who turned out to be either criminally corrupt or simply fled at the first sign of trouble. Seems to me Obama was right to be sceptical about everything to do with discredited foreign adventures.

2. Russia

Dmitry Medvedev, president of Russia 2008 to 2012, prime minister of Russia 2012 to 2020. Vladimir Putin president 2012 to the present. Russia had multiple motives. The Soviet Union had strongly supported Assad’s father, providing weapons and training, though this legacy wasn’t decisive. Similarly, Russia had trade ties with Syria but not as extensive as with Turkey or Iraq.

In 2011 there were protests in Moscow against Putin being elected Russian president yet again so Putin had a vested interest against the Arab Spring popular revolts. A bigger motive was blocking further US influence in the region. In a rare moment the UN Security Council approved armed intervention i.e. air attacks, to support the rebels in Libya; Russia blocked any similar gestures in Syria. If the principle of replacing unpopular/unjust leaders is allowed, it might at some point be used to justify overthrowing Putin himself.

Lastly, anti-jihadism. Fourteen per cent of the population of Russia is Muslim. Putin presented his murderous wars in Chechnya as campaigns against Islamic jihadism. Supporting secular Assad could be presented in the same light as standing up against jihadism, something which became easier when al Qaeda and then ISIS moved in.

There’s another interpretation, which is that Russia had precious little influence over the Assad regime, but shrewdly bet it would be difficult to oust, and gambled on its endurance. Then, once committed, and having been criticised in the West and the Arab world fir its support, it became a matter of prestige, sticking to its guns.

3. Turkey

The leading figure in Turkish politics for the last 20 years has been Recep Tayyip Erdoğan who was prime minister of Turkey from 2003 to 2014, president of Turkey from 2014 to the present.

Turkey began to change its attitude to its neighbours in the Middle East after Erdoğan’s Justice and Development Party (the AKP) was elected to government in 2002. The AFK launched a pivot away from the West (and from the secular policies of Turkey’s modern founder, Mustafa Kemal Atatürk), encouraging Islam and engaging more with its neighbours in the region (pages 35 and 70).

In this spirit Erdoğan set out to overcome decades of enmity with Syria – Turkey had for decades been part of NATO while Syria was firmly in the Soviet sphere of influence. Thus he cultivated a friendship with young Bashar, even flying to Damascus to sign a free trade agreement in 2004.

Turkey’s longest land border is with Syria (566 miles) so the two countries had a vested interest in coming to agreements about trade, crossing points and the vexed issue of water supply.

However, when the protests began at the start of 2011, and especially when Assad’s regime began to crack down, Erdoğan was quick to criticise the regime. By July Turkey was harbouring the group which announced itself as the Free Syrian Army. Erdoğan continued to try to persuade Assad to stand down behind the scenes, but by September had given up and in November made his first speech publicly calling for Assad to go and comparing him to Hitler (p.72).

Phillips suggests a number of reasons for this volte-face. One was that Erdoğan felt personally let down by Assad’s behaviour, and then chagrined that he turned out to have so little influence over him. Second reason is Erdoğan’s Muslim faith and his policy of making Turkey a more Muslim country. Much of the opposition to Assad was Islamic in nature and devout Muslims turning against a secular-militarist regime in Syria exactly mirrored what the AFK was doing in Turkey, trying to dismantle the military, Kemalist ‘Deep State’ in order to make Turkey more Islamic.

Lastly, Erdoğan is a populist and he wanted to make Turkey a leader in the region by appealing directly to the people, to ‘the street’. Hence his support of the Arab Spring revolts, and hence his quick realisation that his position would be jeopardised by association with a man who was hell-bent on turning into a genocidal tyrant (Assad). (This, for example, explains Erdoğan’s recent speeches in support of Hamas; all part of his ongoing campaign to make Turkey leader of the Arab ‘street’, with Erdogan still polling as the most popular leader for Arab youths.)

The situation quickly became very complex but three major facts emerge: 1) Turkey has taken over 4 million Syrian refugees, at obvious cost and burden; 2) Erdoğan remains implacably opposed to the Kurdish forces in Syria and any attempt to set up an independent Kurdish entity; 30 despite much criticism, Turkey appears to have supported al-Nusrah and ISIS, the two most extreme jihadist groups.

4. Saudi Arabia

Salman bin Abdulaziz Al Saud has been King of Saudi Arabia since 2015 and was Prime Minister of Saudi Arabia from 2015 to 2022. Mohammed bin Salman Al Saud, known as MBS, is Crown Prince and Prime Minister of Saudi Arabia.

For decades Saudi worked behind the scenes and kept a low profile. The Iraq War changed that by significantly boosting Iran’s reach and influence. The Saudis perceived the rise and rise of Iran as a threat to be countered, so when the Arab Spring came along in 2011, they reacted in two ways. They were, in general, against populist uprisings because they feared something similar might happen in their own tightly controlled kingdom. And they were against the kind of radical jihadism which had struck several times within the kingdom (p.120). Nonetheless, the biggest decider for the Saudis in Syria was Assad’s traditional alliance with Iran. Being anti-Iran meant they were anti-Assad, and so the Saudis from very early on a) supported anti-Assad forces and b) jostled with Qatar to take control of, host and organise the anti-Assad opposition.

Saudi Arabia is run by a large extended family which have created a complex bureaucracy. Part of the reason it likes ‘leading from the back’ is because it often takes a while to develop a policy position. Compare and contrast smaller, nimbler, quicker Qatar.

5. Qatar

When the war broke out Qatar was ruled by Sheikh Hamad bin Khalifa Al Thani. He abdicated in 2013 in favour of his son, Sheikh Tamim bin Hamad Al Thani, who is current Emir of Qatar. Qatar has developed, over the past two decades, increasingly ambitious plans to be a player in the region. A central symbol of this was the establishment of the Al Jazeera 24-hour news channel in 2006.

Qatar took the lead in the Arab League in the overthrow of Gaddafi in Libya, which gave it an inflated sense of its own power, and its ability to sway the West. Its rulers thought they could pull off the same thing in Syria (p.135).

Phillips not only explains how Saudi and Qatar developed new foreign policies in the aftermath of the Iraq War, he goes on to explain in immense detail, the rivalry and jostling between the two states to support, host and finance the Syrian opposition and how this had the unintended consequence of further splitting and dividing an already highly fractured opposition.

After an initial optimistic moment in 2012, the intervention of the two rival Gulf states had the net effect of making whoever they nominated as leaders of the opposition seem just that, external nominees with little support in Syria itself (p.117). It was damaging and promoted factionalism (p.124).

Qatar supported the Muslim Brotherhood, Saudi Arabia loathed it. Thus Qatar was livid when Riyadh backed the Egyptian military’s overthrow of the Muslim Brotherhood government in Cairo, in July 2013 (p.193).

6. Iran

Iran supported Assad with money, munitions, men and loans, with food and oil for his population. Most importantly Iran lent Assad Qassem Sulemanei, a senior officer in the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps, from 1998 until his assassination in 2020 commander of the Quds Force, an IRGC division primarily responsible for extraterritorial and clandestine military operations. According to Phillips Sulemanei was responsible for organising Shia militias in Iraq in their insurgencies against the occupying US forces. Therefore, on the one hand, he had immense experience at organising armies for asymmetrical warfare. On the other hand, the Iranians found the command structures of Assad’s security forces less controllable than they expected.

Sulemanei brought in experienced fighters and officers from Hezbollah, Iran’s proxy force in Lebanon, to strengthen and organise the National Syrian Army which was felt to be weak and undisciplined by comparison.

At its most extreme some critics accused Iran of effectively annexing Syria and keeping Assad on as a figurehead. But Phillips rejects this theory, stating that Assad was always his own man, irritating his Iranian patrons by his obstinacy.

(Israel)

Israel was never a player in the Syrian civil war like the six countries described above. Israel had been enemies with Syria since the latter was one of the Arab nations who attacked the new state at its inception in 1948. Syria then lost the Golan Heights neighbouring north Israel in the 1967 war and failed to retrieve them in 1973.

That said, Assad father and son were content to mostly keep the peace with Israel, preferring to work through proxies in civil war-torn Lebanon. When the protests broke out in Syria in spring 2011 and as the situation deteriorated into civil war, Israel’s position was relatively straightforward: a civil war in Syria kept all its enemies nicely tied up, so Israel was content to watch and not intervene.

The worst case scenario for Israel was the overthrow of Assad by either an Iranian-backed Shia regime (disaster), or a militant Sunni regime (bad), either of which would feel tempted to attack Israel to appease their domestic constituencies. But as the protests turned to conflict and this descended into chaos, it suited Israel for the civil war to be dragged out indefinitely (p.174). Over the 12 years of the war Israel has mostly limited its interventions to local air strikes on what they thought were transports of missiles to Hezbollah forces along their northern border, or the occasional targeted assassination of Hezbollah leaders.

The same continues to be the case in light of this new Gaza Crisis i.e. Israel wants to keep its northern border quiet in order to finish off Hamas (if it can).

An academic study

Phillips is very much the academic, being Professor in International Relations at Queen Mary College, University of London. Sometimes academic studies can be a bad thing and Phillips’s book is certainly dry and schematic instead of dramatic and journalistic. But in his case it’s a good thing. The war quickly developed into a multi-player game of 12-D chess, with a confusing array of forces both inside and outside Syria, whose positions continually changed and evolved i.e. it is fiendishly mind-bogglingly complicated. So I liked the clarity with which Phillips presented the positions and interests of all the different parties: it was like a series of PowerPoint slides, clear and logical.

Actually, more than that, on each slide he does the academic thing of presenting all the reasons for an interpretation (action or decision) and then all the reasons against and I found this very neat and satisfying. It is like a series of hundreds of little academic debates. Could the Kofi Annan peace plan ever have worked? Could the opposition have been organised quicker and more effectively but for the rivalry of Saudi Arabia and Qatar? Might early pressure from Russia have forced Assad to the negotiating table? Phillips notes hundreds of decision points on the journey into anarchy, describes them lucidly, and then assesses with logic and clarity.

It’s quite a hard book to read because it is so dry, and because the situation is so bewilderingly complicated: by about page 150 I was drowning in names and acronyms, and sometimes struggling to focus on his many balanced analyses of the pros and cons of the positions adopted by scores of different countries, leaders, foreign secretaries, armies, militias and so on. It’s a lot to take in and process. But ultimately very worthwhile. I enjoyed it and I respected Phillips’s approach.

Papers and studies

Throughout the text Phillips cites academic studies, papers and theories and some of these are worth recording. He cites the work of J. Michael Greig on civil wars which suggests that peace cannot be achieved until both sides reach ‘a hurting stalemate’ and that this doesn’t occur until about 130 months of fighting and 33,000 deaths (pages 102 and 192).

Russia steps up

The second edition of Phillips’s book was completed in mid-2020. From 2015 to 2020 I had the impression that events moved faster than in the first four years of complex stalemate.

The key turning point in Phillips’s account appears to be Putin’s full-on despatch of Russian forces to Syria in September 2015, the first time Russian forces had been outside the territory of the old Soviet Union since the end of the Cold War. Relations with the US had tanked after Russia annexed the Crimea in March 2014. Russian troops expanded old Soviet bases and runways and the Mediterranean port it had used in the olden days. Russia then mounted air strikes which it claimed to the world were against ISIS but as often as not were against other anti-Assad forces. It was able to assume a dominant role vis-a-vis its nominal partner, Iran. And having boots on the ground brought it into dangerous proximity with Turkish forces as the latter took an increasingly pro-active role, with a limited incursion in 2016 followed by a full-scale invasion of north Syria in 2019. This move, codenamed Operation Peace Spring, was designed to expel Kurdish forces from Turkey’s neighbour and create a 20 mile deep buffer zone. The Turkish aim was also to relocate some of the nearly 4 million Syrian refugees who had taken refuge in their country. Both attacking the ‘terrorist’ Kurds and resettling refugees were domestically popular policies in Turkey, but the brutality of the incursion brought condemnation and sanctions from the West, and Turkish and Russian forces came close to blows until Putin and Erdoğan signed a deal for join patrolling of some of the seized areas.

Anyway, from the Russian intervention of September 2015 onwards, the story speeds up with Assad’s forces, backed by Russia or Iran, slowly retaking key towns and cities and reasserting control in the most populous west of the country; Idlib in the north becoming a sort of safe haven for opponents, where those who surrendered in cities like Aleppo were bussed; uncertainty about how long Turkey will continue to occupy a strip of northern Syria as a ‘buffer zone’; and the fate of the sparsely populated east of the country, liberated by American and Kurdish forces, remains uncertain.

Summary

Having detailed events and turning points up to 2020, Phillips ends his text with a summary of winners and losers, mainly losers:

Turkey

Turkey’s goal of promoting itself as a regional ‘hegemon’ (power) has been ‘shredded’ (p.305). The ‘buffer zone’ Turkey created along its southern border also acts as a physical barrier to greater involvement in the region. The war:

  • resulted in at least 3.5 million Syrian refugees
  • increased domestic terrorism by ISIS and the PKK, who have reignited their violent campaign in eastern Turkey
  • helped a shift towards more autocratic government by Erdoğan

Qatar

Qatar is worse off as a result of the war. Its domestic situation is stable as is its alliance with the US, but:

  • its initial success backing the rebels in Libya soon came to be tarnished by the collapse of the Libyan state
  • it support for the Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt came to an abrupt end in 2013 when the MB government was overthrown in a military coup
  • Qatar was eclipsed as main Arab sponsor of the Assad opposition by Saudi Arabia
  • relations with its Gulf neighbours reached a nadir when, in 2017, Saudi and the United Arab Emirates, along with Egypt and Bahrain, cut diplomatic ties with Qatar and imposed a trade and travel ban

The outcome was the opposite of the region-bestriding influence Qatar had hoped to project after its successful support of the opposition in Libya in 2011.

USA

Barack Obama wanted to turn the page on the Bush wars and he succeeded in resisting siren calls for a full-on engagement against Assad in early and mid-2011. No more occupying Middle Eastern countries, good. When he did intervene it was in specific areas to help specific allies (the Kurds) destroy ISIS and, when that goal was more or less accomplished, he withdrew. I admire Obama for this.

But critics say he was responsible for a massive diminution of America’s reputation in the region. All the opposition groups were disappointed, as were regional allies such as Turkey and especially Saudi Arabia, by America’s failure to intervene. America’s limited intervention opened the space for the expansionism of Iran but especially of Russia.

Trump was worse. Despite claiming to be the opposite of everything Obama represented, Trump, following his instinctive isolationism, had the same general effect of undermining American authority and fostering a more multipolar Middle East. More chaotic, harder to control. Hence lots of articles like this:

Saudi Arabia

Experienced a mild succession crisis with the death of King Abdullah in 2015 but, in the event, he was smoothly succeeded by Salman and his activist son, Mohammed bin Salman. But MBS, as he’s known, hasn’t found foreign policy as easy as he thought. Saudi:

  • failed in its aim of overthrowing Assad
  • failed in its aim of stemming Iranian influence (although supporting the opposition in the field ensured that Iran drained its coffers supporting the regime and Hezbollah)
  • has found it difficult to end the civil war in Yemen which it exacerbated (the Saudis support Yemeni president Abdrabbuh Mansur Hadi’s government against the Houthi rebels who are supported by Iran; it’s a proxy war between the two, as is Syria)

Iran

On the plus side, Iran:

  • preserved the Assad regime and hugely increasing its say and influence in Syria
  • which meant also securing a land route to supply its proxy in Lebanon, Hezbollah
  • maintained sway over Iraq
  • three developments which go towards creating a crescent of Iranian influence from Iran, through Iraq, through Syria and into Lebanon

On the downside, Iran likes to project itself as a defender of all Muslims but its defence of Alawite Assad, using Shia Hezbollah, and fighting against the numerous Sunni opposition groups, badly damaged that unifying goal. Also, all this came at a large economic cost, exacerbated by ongoing US and Western sanctions (some about Syria, some ongoing squabbles about Iran’s nuclear programme).

Israel

Israel managed to keep out of the war and to stop it spilling over onto its territory, by a) coming to selective agreements with rebels holding the Golan Heights, b) by launching selective strikes against Hezbollah, with Russian acquiescence (after personal meetings and negotiations between Netanyahu and Putin, which Phillips describes in fascinating detail).

Russia

Russia is arguably the biggest winner from the Syrian civil war. Russia:

  • secured domestic security from Islamic terrorism (Russia was happy to see thousands of jihadis from the Central Asian republics head off to Syria to be killed)
  • continued to expand its economic reach into the Middle East
  • boosted its regional credentials at the expense of waning US power

However, with no end in sight to the war, there are questions about how long Russia can continue to pour aid into a broken country, and Syria is unlikely to ever become a profitable trading partner.


Credit

The Battle for Syria: International Rivalry in the New Middle East by Christopher Phillips was first published by Yale University Press in 2016. References are to the revised paperback edition, published 2020.

Related reviews

A War of Choice: Honour, Hubris and Sacrifice: The British in Iraq by Jack Fairweather (2012)

This is an outstandingly thorough, factual and authoritative account of the British Army’s involvement in the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, maybe the most comprehensive, detailed and balanced account available.

Jack Fairweather

Jack Fairweather covered the Iraq War as the Daily Telegraph‘s Baghdad and Gulf correspondent for five years. He and his team won a British Press Award for their coverage. He went on to be the Washington Post‘s Islamic World correspondent. By the time this book was published he had become a fellow at the Centre for Middle Eastern Studies.

It’s a solid work of 430 pages, consisting of 32 chapters with good maps, thorough notes, a list of key players, a useful bibliography, index and so on. Well done to the publishers, Vintage, for such a professional package.

However, something (obviously) beyond their control is that, having been published in 2012 means the narrative does not include the rise of ISIS and the chaos that ensued. Fairweather’s narrative is now over ten years out of date, a factor I’m coming to realise is vitally important when reading about this disastrous part of the world (Iraq-Iran-Afghanistan-Pakistan) and, in particular, putting the entire conflict in Afghanistan into context, given the swift collapse of the Afghan government and return to power of the Taliban in 2021.

Companion piece to Thomas Ricks’s Fiasco

Having read Fiasco, Thomas E. Ricks’s highly detailed accounts of the US decision making and planning leading up to the war, it’s fascinating to follow the same storyline from the British government point of view. For example, how the UK government made the same mistake of failing to consider or plan for the aftermath of the war, but for different reasons.

Tony Blair was the first British premier to be fully aware of modern media and how to use them. He and Alistair Campbell were all about focus groups, opinion polling and managing the news cycle and this is all short term thinking. Fixated as he and his team were on the media, they were obsessed that concrete proof the UK was planning for war shouldn’t leak out. Therefore Blair forbade the Department for International Development from officially commissioning post-invasion planning (the kind of thing it specialises in) in case someone leaked it (p.13). Similarly, Blair forbade the Army from placing orders for the kind of kit it would need for a large-scale deployment abroad (p.14). So Blair’s obsession with media management prevented him from properly, fully considering the post-conquest management of Iraq, from commissioning adequate plans for reconstruction, and from planning for the post-invasion policing by the British Army. Inexcusable.

Key points

Fairweather covers every detail, every aspect of the story, in calm, measured, authoritative chronological order. This really feels like the account to read.

1997 Tony Blair elected Prime Minister.

1998 Blair supports the Operation Desert Fox bombing campaign against Saddam. New Labour make the first increase to the military budget after a decade of Tory cuts.

March 1999 Blair succeeds in pushing the US and NATO to intervene in Kosovo with a bombing campaign against Serbia (with mixed results; see Michael Ignatieff’s book on the subject).

April 1999 Blair makes his Chicago speech making the case for intervention/invasion of countries on a humanitarian basis if dictators are massacring their people.

The 9/11 attacks change everything. President George W. Bush immediately starts planning an attack on Al Qaeda in Afghanistan. In October 2001 US forces began their attack, supporting the Northern Alliance against the Taliban government. The Taliban overthrown by December 2001. George Bush phones Tony Blair to sound him out about attacking Saddam Hussein.

The long tortuous process whereby the US tries to bamboozle the UN Security Council into agreeing a resolution allowing the invasion, and the New Labour government began its campaign of lies and deception, resulting in the dodgy dossier of fake intelligence, cobbled-together scraps from a PhD thesis including the ludicrous claim that Saddam could launch ‘weapons of mass destruction’ in 45 minutes. It was indicative of the way New Labour were obsessed by media and presentation and paid little attention to substance.

20 March 2003 The ‘coalition’ invasion of Iraq began. During the build-up, a variety of figures in the military and civil service discovered there was no plan for what to do after the invasion. It was mainly the Americans’ fault, Bush only set up an Office for Post-War Iraq a few weeks before the invasion and ignored advice contained in documents like Tom Warrick’s ‘the Future of Iraq’ project (p.15). Reconstruction was handed to retired general Jay Garner who rang round his pals to ask if any of them knew how to rebuild a country. Planning was ‘shambolic’ (p.21).

In London, Attorney General Peter Goldsmith had to be cajoled into reluctantly agreeing that invasion was legal without a second, specific UN resolution stating as much. How much he must regret that now (p.19). Alastair Campbell bullied ministers into kowtowing to Blair’s determination to march alongside the Americans i.e. be Bush’s poodle (p.19). Claire Short, Secretary at the Department for International Development, let herself be persuaded not to quit, something she regretted ever after.

Haider Samad and Iraqi stories

It’s worth highlighting that unlike most other books I’ve read on the shambles, Fairweather goes out of his way to include the stories of actual Iraqis. The first we meet is a man named Haider Samad. We hear about his family background, his wish to marry, intertwined with the history of Shiite religion in the southern part of Iraq. Samad will volunteer to become an interpreter for the British Army with ruinous consequences for himself and his family and Fairweather will return to his story at various points during the narrative as a kind of indicator of the British occupation’s broken promises and failures.

Names

Another distinctive feature of the book is the extraordinary number of named individuals Fairweather introduces us to, on every page, and their extraordinary range. Chapter 3 opens with Major Chris Parker patrolling Basra six weeks after the successful invasion has overthrown Saddam, to his commanding officer, Brigadier Graham Binns, a Scots Dragoon Officer Captain James Fenmore, Lieutenant Colonel Nick Ashmore, paymaster Ian Jaggard-Hawkins, Lieutenant Colonel Gil Baldwin of the Queen’s Royal Dragoons, the army’s top lawyer in Iraq Lieutenant Colonel Nicholas Mercer, SAS commander Baghdad Richard Williams and hundreds and hundreds more.

On one level the book is a blizzard of individual names and stories of soldiers engaged in this or that aspect of the occupation, which is what makes his nine-page list of Dramatis personae at the end of the book invaluable.

Back to the narrative

Defence Minister Geoff Hoon made as light of the epidemic of looting which broke out in the aftermath of the invasion as Donald Rumsfeld did, claiming the looters were ‘redistributing wealth’, which was a good idea. What an idiot (p.29).

The thing is, the British had invaded Basra before, back during the Great War when we were seeking to defeat the Ottoman Empire which had allied with Germany and Austria. Hence the Commonwealth War Cemetery which Sniper One Dan Mills discovered in al-Amarah and gave him a fully justified sense of ‘What are we doing back here a hundred years later’?

Now, as then, after overthrowing the ruling elite, the British discovered there weren’t many capable native Iraqis to run anything, even to form a town council. Eventually, they picked on a Sunni tribal leader to run a majority Shia town, Basra, an error of judgement which, of course, immediately triggered widespread protests (p.31). Ignorance.

Fairweather details how, struggling with the number of detainees and ‘suspected terrorists’ they were being sent, British military police and soldiers came to abuse and intimidate the rapidly increasing number of ‘terrorist’ detainees, set up kangaroo courts and deliver summary justice (p.33). This led to the scandal surrounding Corporal Daniel Kenyon and colleagues who took photos of themselves abusing Iraqi prisoners at ‘Camp Breadbasket’, which leaked out, led to their arrests and trial and conviction (pages 46 to 48). The British version of the Abu Ghraib scandal. All the politicians’ claims about the moral superiority of the West went up in smoke.

After less than 2 months flailing to run an office of reconstruction, Jay Garner was fired and replaced by L. Paul Bremer who was the ‘right kind’ of Republican i.e. a devout Christian and neo-conservative (p.40). He was put in charge of the newly created Coalition Provisional Authority. He was to prove a relentless, impatient workaholic who took catastrophic decisions and plunged Iraq into a civil war and vicious ethnic cleansing.

Fairweather chronicles the key role played by Douglas Feith (under secretary of Defense for Policy from July 2001 until August 2005) in persuading Bremer to completely disband the Iraqi army and remove everyone with high or mid-level membership of Saddam’s ruling Ba’ath Party from their jobs. At a stroke this threw half a million well-trained young men (the army) onto the dole queue and a hundred thousand people with managerial experience (Ba’ath) ditto. Bremer refused to listen to the argument that most Ba’ath Party members cared nothing about the party’s ideology, that being a member was simply a requirement of holding senior posts like hospital consultant or head of the power or water systems. Bremer didn’t listen. They were all fired. Chaos ensued.

From these angry men whose lives were ruined by L. Paul Bremer sprang the insurgency. Tim Cross, a British logistics expert who worked with Garner till he quit in disgust called American efforts ‘chaotic’ and a ‘shambles’ (p.41).

Britain contributed 40,000 troops to the initial invasion. By mid-summer 2003 half had returned to Blighty. General Sir Mike Jackson became head of the British Army.

September 2003 the BBC Today programme quoted an anonymous source claiming that New Labour officials ‘sexed up’ the ‘dodgy dossier’ which we went to war on, infuriating Alastair Campbell. The label was to stick to this day (p.50).

A section about the history of the Marsh Arabs, going back to the first occupation of Iraq by the British during and after the Great War. The exploits of Gertrude Bell, who crops up repeatedly in Emma Sky’s account of her time in Iraq (p.52). The Marsh Arabs’ history of independence and revolt against central authority. The disastrous way they were encouraged to rise up against Saddam by President George Bush who then failed to provide any support so that tens of thousands were slaughtered by Saddam’s forces. Then Saddam’s decade long project to drain the marshes altogether and destroy their way of life, which he had just about achieved by the time of the 2003 invasion.

Maysan was the only Iraqi province to liberate itself from Saddam’s security forces and had no intention of kowtowing to the foreign invaders. Into Maysan province, came the Third Battalion the Parachute Regiment, famous for their gung-ho approach. Fairweather quotes Patrick Bishop’s description of the paras from his book ‘3 Para’ (2007) which I’ve reviewed.

Angry protests against the occupying forces started straight away, with stones being thrown, and then the first shots being fired. It was Northern Ireland all over again, but without the half a dozen crucial elements which made Northern Ireland, in the end, manageable (itemised in Frank Ledwidge’s outstanding book on the subject). In Basra, unlike Ulster, there was a lack of clear government authority, and the lack of a reliable police force to work alongside, the lack of a shared culture and language, and the lack of enough men to do the job.

In a series of incidents which he described in great detail (‘From the rooftop Robinson shouted, “Remember lads, you’re fucking paratroopers”‘), Fairweather traces the quick degeneration of the ‘peacekeeping’ mission into a fight for survival against hostile crowds and growing numbers of highly motivated, highly armed local ‘insurgents’.

The soldiers of 1 Para were only faintly familiar with the region’s history and how it had bred a culture of suspicion of outsiders. (p.55)

Fairweather gives a detailed forensic account of the killing of six military police by an enraged crowd after they got trapped in the police station of Majar al-Kabir on 24 June (pages 55 to 63). Critics focused on the lack of equipment, specifically a satellite phone to call for help, and their insufficient ammunition. Having read Lewidge’s book, though, I understand how the soldiers had been put into a completely untenable position by the naive over-optimism of the politicians (Blair) and the failure of the army general staff either to stand up to the politicians (to say no) and then to provide adequate intelligence, adequate equipment but, above all, a clear strategy to deal with the worsening situation.

Fairweather describes the arrival of a new British civil servant, Miles Pennett, sent to work with the Coalition Provisional Authority (CPA) in Baghdad and the chaos he found there created by teeming hordes of graduates all fresh out of American universities and selected solely for their adherence to right-wing neo-conservative Republican values (p.69).

(In his book ‘Imperial Life in the Emerald City: Inside Baghdad’s Green Zone’ , American journalist Rajiv Chandrasekaran tells us candidates for the CPA were interviewed about their views on abortion or neo-liberal economics rather than any technical qualifications or experience whatsoever. This explains the CPA’s reputation for chaos and incompetence.)

While things fell apart in Iraq, Tony Blair flew to the States to receive a Congressional Gold Medal and make a grandstanding speech to the Congress. It shifted a complete change in the aims of the occupation. Gone was mention of the weapons of mass destruction which had so feverishly justified the invasion. Now, it turned out, the occupation was about bringing universal values of democracy, human rights and liberty to ‘the darkest corners of the earth’ (p.70).

In other words a) indistinguishable from Victorian rhetoric about civilising India or Africa which justified control and occupation; and b) bullshit, because i) quite a few ‘places’ don’t particularly want ‘democracy, human rights and liberty’, they want food and water so they don’t starve to death and, next above that, security: maintenance of law and order so it’s safe to walk the streets. That – basic security – comes a million miles before Western values and, in the event, the occupying forces in both Iraq and Afghanistan turned out to be unable to provide them.

And ii) because as explained at the start of this review, Western-style democracy was never an option for Iraq, with its complex and corrupt matrix of tribal, ethnic and religious allegiances; and never, ever a possibility in Afghanistan.

Pride comes before a fall. The day after Balir received his congressional medal the body of David Kelly, the weapons expert, was found in a wood. He had committed suicide. He had been the source for BBC journalist Andrew Gilligan’s story about the ‘sexed up’ dossier about WMDs the government used to deceive MPs into voting for the war. Hoon and Campbell had pressed for Kelly’s name to be leaked to the press in order to discredit him. It never actually was leaked but enough information was provided for the press to be able to identify him. Snared in a political mesh he could see no way out of without ruining his reputation, Kelly took his own life. Alastair Campbell was forced to resign. The New Labour government was snared in scandal (pages 70 to 73).

All this distracted from the worsening situation in Baghdad. Fairweather’s account is super-detailed. He gives precise names, careers, quotes for hundreds of the personnel deployed to the CPA in Baghdad and to run Basra Province. It was the usual cobbled-together, last minute list of candidates as had characterised the hurried creation of Jay Garner’s short-lived Office for Reconstruction and Humanitarian Assistance: a former director at a merchant bank was appointed finance minister, a public schoolmaster was appointed minister of education, an internet entrepreneur was made minister for trade and industry (p.67).

The advent of Sir Jeremy Greenstock, UK ambassador to the UN, now despatched to the court of Paul Bremer at the Coalition Provisional Authority and the difficulties he encountered, namely the Americans steamed ahead doing whatever they wanted to (dissolved the 500,000 strong Iraqi army, sacked 100,000 Ba’ath Party members from their jobs, delayed elections) and ignored him.

The Anglo-American relationship that Blair had gone to war to strengthen was coming under serious pressure. In fact it was increasingly difficult to find areas where British and American views matched. (p.79)

America’s disastrous early efforts to ‘train’ a new Iraqi police force, handed to Bernie Kerik, a former New York City police commissioner (p.79). Rumsfeld tries to reduce the budget required to train a new army. Fairweather strikingly calls Rumsfeld ‘a bully’ (p.80).

Typical neo con plans to privatise Iraq’s hundreds of state-own industries in one fell swoop, to be masterminded by former venture capitalist at Citicorp, Tom Foley (p.80). Chandrasekaran is very funny about the complete lunacy of this ideas and its ruinous impact on an economy already on its knees.

As a presidential election year approaches, the politicking in the US, Bush reshuffles his team.

Rumsfeld, whose grasp on the chaos he had created was tenuous, was removed (p.83)

Condoleeza Rice takes over. Arguments about the new Iraqi constitution, when it should be drawn up, who it should be drawn up by, whether or not it could form the legal basis for elections, when those elections should be held, what kind of form they take (Bremer preferred US-style electoral colleges rather than a simple poll).

By the end of 2003 Iraq fatigue had set in in London. Blair’s entire personality was built around can-do optimism and so found it difficult to cope with the relentless bad news from Iraq. And he’d lost Campbell, his key advisor and media manipulator.

By October 2003 the British administration in Basra accepted the fact that it was, in effect, an imperial occupation, and moved into Saddam’s palace. Fairweather shows us how it worked through the eyes of Sir Hilary Synnott, Regional Coordinator of the Coalition Provisional Authority in Southern Iraq from 2003 to 2004.

The problem of the UK Department for International development, populated by progressives who strongly opposed the war, and the occupation, were desperate to escape accusations of imperialism, but were entirely dependent on the military pacifying the place before they could do a stroke of ‘development’ work.

When development minister Hilary Benn and permanent undersecretary Suma Chakrabarti flew into Basra it was to discover the army commander, Major General Graeme Lamb, mired in controversy because some squaddies from the Queen’s Lancashire Regiment had just arrested seven Iraqis, took them back to base, hooded them, abused and beat and tortured them, till one of them, Baha Mousa, died (p.86). What was it Tony Blair was saying about bringing universal values of democracy, human rights and liberty to ‘the darkest corners of the earth’?

Meanwhile the other provinces of southern Iraq needed governing. Fairweather introduces us to the men selected for the job, being: Mark Etherington, former paratrooper; old Etonian Rory Stewart, whose account of his time in the role I’ve reviewed; old Etonian John Bourne; Emma Sky, former British Council worker, whose account I’ve also reviewed (p.89).

Fairweather makes the simple but penetrating point that a certain type of posh Englishman has always ‘loved’ and identified with the Arab way of life because it echoes the primitive hierarchy and independence (for tribal leaders) which used to exist in Britain, in medieval to early modern times. They instinctively identified with the feudal setup which reminded them of their own country estates and venerable lineages.

Anyway, these Brits were handed entire provinces to run, exactly as in the high days of empire when jolly good chaps ruled provinces the size of France or more. Their efforts were so amateurish it’s funny. Adrian Weale was handed the task of organising elections in Nasariyah. He had no idea how to do this so emailed his wife, a borough councillor in Kensington and Chelsea (of course), and asked her to send him guidelines for local elections in Britain, to be adapted for Iraq. Making it up as they went along.

None of this stopped Stewart, in Maysan, having problems with the self-styled ‘Prince of the Marshes’, Abu Hatem, while Etherington, 100 miles north, appointed governor of Wasit, whose northern border touched Baghdad, was beginning to have trouble from the followers of Shia cleric Muqtada al-Sadr and his devoted followers. In a telling sentence, Fairweather says: ‘Sadr was organising faster than the British’ (p.91). Sadr established his own parallel provisional government for Iraq and declared any government created by the British or Americans illegitimate (p.91).

In November Etherington attended a conference of US business donors in Baghdad and was astonished at how out of touch the CPA was. Even the US military was surprised at being kept out of the loop by Bremer and his secretive cabal of advisers.

Back in Amara Stewart was involved in a complicated sequence of events which led to rioters looting the office of the local governor, who had been inserted into the job by the egregious Abu Hatem. British troops found it hard to contain brick-throwing mobs. Stewart reflected that his Victorian forebears believed in their mission and were committed to the long-term development of their countries. Deep down Stewart knew that wasn’t true of Britain.

2004 uprisings

All the allies had growing misgivings about the growing power of Muqtada al-Sadr. In March 2004 Bremer took the publication of a series of articles lambasting the Coalition Provisional Authority in Sadr’s newspaper, Al-Hawzat as a pretext to shut it down. On 3 April US troops arrested the editor, sparking protests. On 4 April fighting broke out in Najaf, Sadr City and Basra. Sadr’s Mahdi Army took over several points and attacked coalition soldiers, killing dozens of foreign soldiers. This was the start of the Sadr Uprising in the south of Iraq.

What made the situation ten times worse was that on 31 March gunmen ambushed four American contractors outside Falluja to the west of Baghdad, beat them to death, burned their bodies and hung them from a bridge over the river Euphrates. Footage was beamed round the world. Bush was horrified and vowed revenge.

Suddenly the occupying forces were faced with a Sunni uprising in the so-called Sunni Triangle to the West of Baghdad, and a parallel but separate uprising by violent forces loyal to Sadr in every town in the south.

Fairweather details the experience of Mark Etherington in the Cimic compound at Kut as fierce fighting breaks out between the Shia militia and the Ukrainian UN troops. Here and in all the other towns of south Iraq, the UN and CPA compounds came under intense fire. The Americans’ actions against Sadr in Baghdad effectively plunged southern Iraq into war. Etherington knew all about the catastrophic defeat of a sizeable British Army at Kut by Ottoman troops during the First World War one hundred years earlier (p.109). Fairweather gives a brilliantly vivid and nail-biting description of Etherington and his staff abandoning the compound at Kut. The same kind of thing was happening at Nasariyah under its Italian governor, Barbara Contini.

Meanwhile, the President had ordered the US army to enter the town of Fallujah and find the people responsible for the murder of the civilian contracts. This ridiculously impossible task of course led to all out war and the First Battle of Fallujah. All round the world were beamed footage of houses being destroyed, terrified civilians being rounded up, and thousands of refugees fleeing the city as the civilian casualties grew into the hundreds. All round the Arab world young men decided they had to go to Iraq to fight these genocidal invaders.

Fairweather quotes part of a George Bush speech which epitomises one of the American’s conceptual stupidities, where Bush says: ‘the American people want to know that we’re going after the bad guys’ (p.111). These simple-minded dichotomies, the binary polarities of a thousand Hollywood movies, which divide people up into the Good Guys (John Wayne, Bruce Willis) and the Bad Guys (wearing black hats), governed US policy throughout the twentieth century. This worked fine when there really were Bad Guys, like the Nazis, but not so well in societies riven with complex ethnic, religious, social and political divides, such as Vietnam or Iraq where there’s a wide variety of bad actors and it becomes impossible to figure out who the ‘good’ ones are, if any.

Obviously, in order to bring the ‘murderers to justice’ many times more US troops were killed and injured than the original 4 contractors. In the end 37 American soldiers were killed and over 600 Iraqi civilians. Huge parts of a major city were devastated. Inevitably, the supposed murderers of the contractors were never found.

Apart from the obvious security issues, it caused a political issue because the entire Sunni membership of the provisional Iraqi government which Bremer was trying to cobble together threatened to quit, and could only be made to support coalition forces with an extreme of arm-twisting and promises of money and influence.

Meanwhile, in the south of Iraq, US forces retook the CPA compounds in Kut, Amarah and Nasariyah, but the British consuls who returned to their posts had abandoned all thoughts of reconstruction and development. Not getting killed became their number one priority (p.113).

Bremer was strongly critical of the British failure to secure the south, exacerbated by negative coverage of the American butchery in Fallujah in the British press, plunging American-British relations to a new low and this led to a significant outcome. Bremer banned British representatives from the ongoing discussions with local politicians about the forthcoming constitution and elections.

Britain’s effective involvement in shaping Iraq’s political future was over. (p.114)

In late April the photos of American abuse of Iraqi prisoners at the notorious prison at Abu Ghraib to the west of Baghdad emerged. I’ve described it elsewhere. Bringing ‘universal values of democracy, human rights and liberty’ eh?

For a spell Fairweather’s text overlaps the narrative of Sergeant Dan Mills, sniper with the Princess of Wales’s Royal Regiment, in his bestselling book, Sniper One. Mills describes how, on the very first patrol on the very first morning of the very first day of their deployment, Danny and his patrol parked up outside the local headquarters of Sadr’s Mahdi Army or Jaish al-Mahdi as it was properly called, JAM as the Brits called it. Mills’s patrol did this in complete and utter ignorance of the local geography, town layout, and local sense of bitter resentment of the infidel occupiers.

The JAM attacked, using machine guns, rocket propelled grenades and mortars, and Danny and his mates found themselves in the middle of a series of intense firefights and attacks which continued on a daily basis until their eventual withdrawal from the Amarah government compound four months later.

The Americans had now surrounded al-Sadr who was holed up in the Imam Ali Shrine in the holy city of Najaf where their attempts to break in had damaged some parts of the shrine. Shia anger was off the scale. Danny and his mates and all UK forces across the south of the country had to deal with the consequences. Fairweather gives a series of absolutely gripping, vivid, terrifying eye witness accounts of the running battles and firefights which followed.

The Prince of the Marshes, Abu Hatem, threw in his lot with the Sadrists. When the Brits made a raid to capture insurgents and took prisoners back to their prison, the detainees were subject to abuse and heard screams and torture sounds from other cells. When eventually released these stories helped recruit more insurgents and incentivise existing ones into a life or death struggle against the invader. Public relations catastrophe (p.123).

Escape to Afghanistan

In January 2004 the Hutton Inquiry into David Kelly’s death acquitted the government of blame and BBC Director General Greg Dyke resigned, but much of the media accused the report of being a whitewash. Fairweather quotes cabinet colleagues who noticed the impact the strain was having on Blair’s face. Hs hair started to turn grey.

In June 2004 a NATO conference decided the US-led mission had languished because of the focus on Iraq and volunteered NATO forces to take a more active role in Afghanistan. Why? Use it or lose it. NATO had big budgets from member countries who periodically wondered why they were spending so much. This would give the organisation the sense of purpose it needed.

In London Blair and his team saw it as an opportunity to regain the initiative. In Iraq we were not only visibly losing but being sidelined in every way imaginable by the Yanks. Deployment to Afghanistan offered the British Army a chance to redeem its damaged reputation and Tony Blair a way of restoring his reputation as an international statesman.

In fact the Americans had specifically asked the Brits to relocate NATO’s Allied Rapid Reaction Corps to the south of Iraq. It was crunch time. Fairweather describes the nitty gritty of discussions, with pros and cons on both sides. But the Brits decided to cut and run. Iraq was a swamp where the Americans disrespected us. Afghanistan offered a second chance. But could we fight a war on two fronts? The decisive view was given by director of operations at the Ministry of Defence, Lieutenant General Robert Fry. He argued that troop deployments to Afghanistan would be ramped up as troops in Iraq were drawn down. This was ratified by Chief of the Defence Staff Michael Walker. They’re the men to blame.

Fairweather gives a detailed analysis of the politics around successive Defence Reviews, with the Treasury constantly trying to cut the military budget and the top brass looking for any arguments to increase it. This in turn was meshed with the bitter rivalry between Blair the international grandstander and Gordon Brown, morosely hunkered down as Chancellor of the Exchequer. So another reason for the Afghan Adventure was entirely due to Whitehall politicis, in that the deployment forced a reluctant Treasury to release more money to the Ministry of Defence.

Chapter 13

Cut to a fascinating chapter about dismal attempts to train a new Iraqi police force, told through the eyes of Brit trainer William Kearney, 12 years in the Special Branch and now manager of ArmorGroup security, one of the many contractors who worked in Iraq. Compare and contrast with the American approach which was to flood the streets with poorly trained ‘police’ provided with uniforms, guns and ammunition which they quite regularly sold onto the insurgents.

We meet up again with Iraqi Haider Samad who is working for the Brits in Basra as an interpreter and the time he was beaten to the ground by four strangers who tell him next time they’ll kill him if he carries on working for the infidel. Haider’s experience is a peg to introduce the wider issue that many, many of the new ‘police’ being recruited at such speed in order to make Western politicians happy, were themselves members of the Shia militias.

Chapter 14

Introduction to the leader of Jaish al-Mahdi in Basra, Ahmed al-Fartosi, and his aim to utterly destroy the British occupation. He was convinced the Brits wanted to extend their occupation forever because their real aim was to steal Iraq’s oil. He had spent some time in exile in Lebanon and so on return to Basra reorganised the militia along the lines of the Iranian-backed Hezbollah. That said, Fartosi was no fan of the Iranians who had fought Iraqis in a bitter eight-year-long war. Half a million Iraqis died in that war and Iran came close to capturing Basra.

Another one of Fairweather’s gripping descriptions of a firefight which broke out on 9 August in Basra between British forces and the Shia militia led by Fartosi who ambushed a patrol forcing them to take refuge in nearby houses and call for backup etc.

Amara Fairweather cuts to the similar situation in Amara where sniper Mills and his buddies were included in the 150 or so coalition troops defending the Cimic House compound from daily attacks and hourly mortar bombs. After a particular intense firefight all the Iraqi cooks and ancillary staff leave, taking as much loot with them as they could carry. Fairweather then gives his version of the siege of Cimic House, the intense battle which forms the centrepiece of Mill’s book, Sniper One (pages 155 to 158).

Soon afterwards al-Sadr caved to majority Shia opinion and called off his insurgency. The far more influential cleric Grand Ayatollah Sistani had returned to the country, gone to Najaf and seen the damage to the shrine which he, and moderate Shia opinion, blamed on Sadr. Hence his climbdown.

Fairweather switches from his intense description of combat right up to the highest level of politics and the scheming by Iraqi exile Ayad Allawi to curry favour with the Americans and get himself appointed new president of Iraq. All the accounts I’ve read describe Allawi as a plausible swindler who promised Bush and Rumsfeld whatever they wanted to hear, thus materially aiding the misconceptions and lack of planning on which the invasion was launched.

Fairweather drolly explains that this plausible chancer was put on the payroll of MI6 and ‘supplied the British government with some of the most flagrantly misleading intelligence before the war, namely the completely bogus claim that Saddam could launch weapons of mass destruction in 45 minutes (p.131). This crook had Bush and Blair’s enthusiastic personal support.

In November the Americans launched the Second Battle of Fallujah with a view to exterminating Sunni insurgents and establishing the rule of law. The battle saw some of the heaviest urban combat the American army had been involved in since the ill-fated Battle of Hue City in Vietnam in 1968. 95 American and 4 British soldiers were killed, along with up to 2,000 ‘insurgents’. Over a fifth of the city was destroyed.

2005 election A general election for the interim Iraqi parliament was held on 30 January 2005. Sunni Muslims, despite being a minority in Iraq (64% Shia, 34% Sunni, 2% Christian and other) had historically held power. Saddam and his clique were Sunnis. Now, in protest against the battle of Fallujah and the perceived bias of the occupying force towards Shias, large numbers of Sunnis boycotted the elections. This was self-defeating as it gave sweeping victory to Shia parties backed by Grand Ayatollah Sistani. Allawi’s parties polled just 14%.

Both Americans and Brits now had to deal with an ‘elected’ Iraqi government dominated by Shias who, far from being grateful to their liberators, were deeply suspicious and resentful of them.

Chapter 16

Fairweather switches focus to a new location, the south of Afghanistan, giving us a potted history of Britain’s ill-fated military adventures here during the nineteenth century, notably the swingeing defeat at the Battle of Maiwand, 27 July 1880, heaviest defeat of a Western power by an Asian power until the prolonged Ottoman siege and massacre of the British at Kut in southern Iraq in the winter of 1915/16

Cut to 2004 as the British Army staff begin to plan a deployment to Afghanistan. Now that elections had taken place, British planners and politicians looked for a way to extract the army from Iraq. The task fell to Major general Jonathon Riley who adopted the formula of the Americans: as the Iraqi police force ‘stepped up’, the British forces would ‘step down’. Sounded good but conveniently ignored the fact that the so-called ‘police’ were very poor quality, corrupt if you were lucky, at worst – during many of the clashes of the Sadr Uprising – joining the insurgents in shooting at British troops. When the police were objective and reasonably independent, they were themselves liable to attack. In the first half of 2005 350 police officers were killed in attacks on police stations and recruiting centres.

We remeet the Brits handed the challenging job of training Iraqi police, namely William Kearney and Charlie MacCartney, police mentor of the Jamiat; SIS station chief Kevin Landers. Fairweather details the process whereby all these guys come to realise that the head of the Serious Crimes Unit (SCU) Captain Jaffar, was deeply in league with the insurgents. In fact the SCU was to become a growing bugbear in the Brits’ side, and establish itself as a centre of criminality and extortion against the civilian population.

Elections are all very well but the January 2005 ones put Sadr party members into Basra’s provincial council and into the governor’s seat. But the Brits didn’t want to stir up a hornet’s nest. They were now planning to withdraw all but 1,000 British troops from Iraq by end of 2005, with a view to redeploying them to Afghanistan at the start of 2006.

How did the Brits get deployed to Helmand, right next to the historic battlefield of Maiwand, home of the fiercest, most invader-resistant traditions in all Afghanistan? Well, remember the whole thing was a NATO operation. The Canadians had lobbied hard to have overall control of the deployment to south Afghanistan and called first dibs on the biggest town, Kandahar. Considering the alternatives, the Brits learned that Helmand Province had now become the biggest single source of heroin, which would please the army’s civilian master, Tony Blair. And it was also the historical homeland of the Taliban, so combatting them would also give political brownie points to Blair, keen to rehabilitate his ailing reputation.

Chapter 17

At this point Fairweather cuts away to catch up on the career of interpreter Haider who was now working for a private security firm. His boss was William Kearney who we’ve seen trying to train the Iraqi police. Haider has saved up enough money to propose to his childhood sweetheart, Nora, whose family previously banned the match due to his lack of money.

Chapter 18

Reg Keys’s son, Tom, was one of the six military policemen murdered by the mob at Majar al-Kabir police station in June 2003. Fairweather devotes some time to chronicling Keys’s campaign to get to the bottom of his son’s death but his increasing frustration with MoD prevarication. The army board of enquiry published its findings nine months later. The families of the dead were not invited to contribute or to attend. They asked for advance copies on the eve of publication but were refused. They were given just an hour to read the 90-page report ahead of a meeting with Defence Secretary Geoff Hoons. Despicable.

Arguably the limited and obviously parti pris ‘enquiries’ into the launching of the war, the David Kelly affair and the red caps’ deaths went a long way to discrediting the entire idea of a government enquiry.

The angered parents set up a support group, Military Families Against the War (p.253). But they went further and funded Keys to stand in Tony Blair’s constituency of Sedgemoor in the 2005 general election. Fairweather gives a characteristically thorough and fascinating description of how what started as a jokey suggestion over a coffee was turned into a serious political reality, giving us lots of information about the working of modern British political parties and the media.

Just before the election Channel 4 News leaked a March 2003 memo from Attorney General Peter Goldsmith giving his opinion that he didn’t think the case for war would stand up in a court of law. Only days later a soldier in Amarah was hit by a roadside bomb and killed. The war wouldn’t leave Tony Bair alone. You broke it; you own it.

In the general election Blair’s share of the vote went from 65 to 59% and Reg won 10%. Labour’s majority in the House of Commons was cut from 200 to 66 MPs. So not a defeat. In fact pollsters considered the Iraq war a minor issue. The economy was booming and lots of people didn’t care all that much (as, arguably, most sensible people don’t care about any form of politics).

(Page 197 quote from Ibn Saud, future king of Saudi Arabia, on the irredeemably rebellious nature of the Iraqi tribes who can only be governed by ‘strong measures and military force’.)

Chapter 19. Iran

Rocky relations between the Brits in Amarah tasked with patrolling the porous border with Iran, just 50k away, and the newly elected governor, Adel Muhoder al-Maliki. More descriptions of firefights and attacks the latest troop of British soldiers come under within minutes of leaving the heavily defended Amarah air base. The point is that the incredibly brave bomb disposal officer, Captain Simon Bratcher, not only neutralised a clutch of roadside bombs but provided the first evidence that they were being supplied by Iran.

The Shia government It’s all very well organising ‘free and fair elections’ until they end up voting in people you strongly disapprove of. Two months after the January 2005 elections, Ibrahim Jaafari, the leader of Dawa, one of the two main Shia parties, was announced as the next Iraqi Prime Minister. The Interior Ministry was handed to Bayan Jabr, a former commander of a Badr Brigade i.e. one of the main Shia militias. These men continued to further Iran’s influence at every level of the Iraqi administration. The Interior Ministry was said to have set up death squads to kidnap, torture and execute former Ba’ath Party members and Sunni leaders.

Jack Straw learns of an American plan to set up death squads to ‘take out’ leading Iranian agents working in Iraq militia leaders, but vetoes it (p.. (Did they go ahead anyway?) Straw’s objections were about not upsetting the Iranians at a difficult time of negotiations with the West about Iran’s nuclear power programme. But it’s one example among hundreds of how Iraqi politics became steadily more entangled with Iranian.

Fairweather makes an interesting point. Iranian policy in Iraq often seemed contradictory – at the same time supporting the Shia-led government but also backing anti-government militias. But why shouldn’t Iran be like Western countries, with conflicting parties and factions jostling for power and implementing different, sometimes conflicting strategies? Also: why not make it a conscious strategy to back different parties and factions while it was unclear who would win (p.204). In the end, of course, Iran won.

Chapter 20. Jamiat

This was the name of the police station in Basra which had become the focal point of corruption, extortion, kidnapping, torture and militia influence. Major Rupert Jones of the newly arrived 12 Mechanised Brigade decided to do something about it and asked for a list of possibly corrupt policemen. It became an uncomfortably long list. The Brits asked for them to be removed. Nothing happened. Then they asked for Fartosi to be arrested but learned that Fartosi had been put on a ‘no lift’ list because the prime Minister didn’t want to antagonise the Sadrists on whose support his government rested.

Kidnap of two SAS officers

Then three British soldiers were killed by roadside bombs and Brigadier John Lorimer, the eighth brigade commander in Basra in two years, decided to act. On 17 September an SAS detachment infiltrated Fartosi’s home and arrested him. Two days later two SAS officers on patrol were kidnapped. Fairweather describes in detail the complex standoff which then followed as several sets of British officials ascertained that the two soldiers had been taken to the notorious Jamiat police station. When British officials went to the station they were themselves promptly arrested and detained. Negotiations involved an Iraqi judge, and an increasing battery of coalition lawyers and officers. The negotiators were themselves hustled at gunpoint to the cells where the two soldiers were being kept, as fighting broke out at the front of the police station, with Iraqi police officers who the British had spent time and money training now opening fire on British forces. British relief forces were surrounded by angry crowds throwing bricks and a succession of Warrior vehicles were set on fire.

Sergeant Long escaping from his Warrior armoured vehicle after a petrol bomb was thrown down the gun turret (source: Reuters)

Eventually the SAS men and the other Brit hostages were rescued by an attack by SAS men who were brought all the way from the regiment’s HQ at Herefordshire to help them. The political fallout was threefold. 1) Pictures of George Long on fire escaping from his Warrior tank covered the front pages of British newspapers alongside articles claiming the British softly-softly police in Basra was a shambles. 2) More specifically, it revealed that the entire concept of training the Iraqi police force which politicians from Blair downwards had put such emphasis on, was in fact a sham. 3) The Shia governor, Muhammed al-Waeli, forced to take sides, came down on the side of his Shia constituency, accused the Brits of terrorism, led a tour of the now devastated police station, and declared he would never have anything to do with the Brits again.

Fairweather is outstanding at giving detailed forensic accounts of this kind of event (compare his description of the murder of the military police at Majar al-Kabir).

Chapter 21. Helmand

7/7 suicide bombers

On 7 July 2005 four British Muslims carrying backpacks full of explosives detonated them on London Underground trains and a bus. These were the first suicide bombs on British soil. They killed 52 and injured over 700. In a pre-recorded video one of the bombers described his motivation as revenge for all the innocent Muslims the British Army was killing in Iraq and Afghanistan. So much for our invasions of Iraq and Afghanistan making Britain safer. The exact opposite.

But when news came out that the men had been trained at terrorist training camps on the Pakistan-Afghan border, government spin doctors turned it into a justification for deploying British troops to Afghanistan.

In September 2005 Lieutenant General Rob Fry, the individual most responsible for the plan to deploy to Helmand, presented John Reid with the MoD’s plans to deploy 3,150 troops, mostly drawn from the Parachute Regiment. British forces would take over an American base named Camp Bastion in the desert north-west of the province’s capital, Lashkar Gah. He promised that Taliban fighters crossing from Pakistan would be easy to identify and eliminate. ‘The senior SIS men in the room rolled their eyes’ (p.225). Brigadier Ed Butler was chosen to command the force.

Fairweather shows the gulf between the top of the army (Fry and Chief of the General Staff Sir Mike Jackson) who assured sceptical politicians that it could be managed as long as the Brits withdrew their forces from southern Iraq at the same speed that they deployed them to Helmand – and many of the officers on the ground who thought it was madness. Defence Secretary John Reid was sceptical. ‘Won’t British troops be isolated and exposed?’ he asked (p.225). Fry assured him not. Reid was right. Fry was way wrong.

Split command

Right from the start it was ballsed up. The British formed part of a NATO force commanded by the Canadians. Because the Canadian force was being commanded by a brigadier, army etiquette demanded that Butler step aside to allow a more junior officer to command his men, and so Colonel Charlie Knaggs became commander of the British deployment. This meant Butler would have to oversee operations from Kabul. Then he discovered his headquarters would not be doing the operational planning but that a staff officer from army headquarters in Northwood would be drawing up the crucial operational plan.

Crucially, Butler would only have four Chinook helicopters at his disposal, barely enough to support one offensive mission a month and, it would prove, not nearly enough to extract British soldiers from the umpteen dangerous contact situations they were going to get into.

After the Jamiat police station siege, senior officers considered advising against the deployment, realising that the situation in south Iraq was far worse than previously understood, and would entail a much slower withdrawal than planned but they never made their opposition clear enough.

Sher Mohammed Akhundzada

Before the troops arrived the Brits made another mistake. UK ambassador to Kabul, Rosalind Marsden, persuaded president Hamid Karzai, to remove the province’s long-time governor, Sher Mohammed Akhundzada. He was notorious for rape, murder and involvement in the drugs trade, so getting rid of him played to press releases about Tony Blair’s counter narcotics policy. Unfortunately, Muhammed may have been a criminal but he was the only person with the contacts and authority to keep a lid on the province. Later, he cheerfully told British officers that, removed from his position of influence and no longer able to pay them, he let his 3,000-strong fighting force defect en masse to the Taliban. At a stroke the Brits made violent conflict inevitable and created a huge opposition force. The road to hell is paved with good intentions. That motto should be carved on Tony Blair’s tombstone.

Fairweather describes the efforts of the chief planner Gordon Messenger and development experts to assess the province, their dismay at the illiteracy and corruption of the Afghan administrators and police they met, and their equal dismay at the ignorance about Helmand displayed by British politicians and army staff. The politicians had assigned the army a three-year deployment. Development expert Minna Jarvenpaa said it would take ten years, probably longer, to begin to develop such a place (p.233). Politicians didn’t want to hear. No-one listened.

Details of the deployment were announced in January 2006, just in time for a conference of Afghan donors’ which Tony Blair was chairing. John Reid declared we were going to spend three years in the south of Afghanistan, bringing peace and security and helping the locals reconstruct their country. None of this was to happen.

Gil Baldwin, head of the Post Conflict Reconstruction Unit resigned in disgust, saying it beggared belief that Britain was preparing to go into Afghanistan even worse prepared then it had been for Iraq (p.234).

Chapter 22

Introduces us to the first soldiers to deploy to Afghanistan including Will Pike and Harvey Pynn of the Third Parachute regiment, 3 Para. This part of the narrative exactly matches the account of 3 Para’s time in Helmand (April to October 2006) given by Patrick Bishop in his rip-roaring soldier’s eye view of endless firefights in ‘3 Para’.

Fairweather repeats the surprising fact that, of the 3,500 British troops being deployed, all but 600 were support staff, engineers, cooks, drivers, quartermasters, ammunition handlers and so on. Governor Daoud wanted the Brits to deploy to protect towns in the north of the province from the Taliban. Butler was reluctant but agreed to support local Afghan army units. Development consultant Minna Jarvenpaa knew the tribal situation around Sangin was complicated with the town divided between two tribes, and both involved in rival drug operations.

In May 2006 Daoud sent the British commander, Charlie Knaggs, a desperate message that the district centre in the town of Naw Zad was being attacked by Taliban forces. A force of Paras is despatched, who were later replaced by Gurkhas. Soon Daoud was asking British troops to protect other towns and the Americans asked them to bolster the small force protecting the important Kajaki Dam. Step by step the Brits were forced into abandoning the initial plan of securing a relatively small area bounded by Camp Bastion, Geresh and Lashkar Gah in the south, and instead found their forces scattered thinly across half a dozen outposts which came under increasingly fierce attack.

Far from being a gentle peacekeeping and reconstruction exercise, the deployment was turning into a full scale war against the Taliban. Fairweather is brilliant at conveying the complex political cross-currents which led to the decisions, and the shambolic last-minute way they were carried out.

Will Pike led the deployment to the northern outpost of Sangin. As the Paras set about fortifying the district centre a delegation of town elders came and asked them to leave. They knew the Taliban would attack. They knew it would develop into a siege of attrition. They knew their town would be badly damaged. They were right on all three counts, but Pike had to turn them down. So much for listening to the locals, democracy etc. Instead of peace, the Brits brought war and destruction wherever they went.

Days later the Sangin district centre was hit, 3 killed 3 badly injured. If Butler had been in Camp Bastion maybe he’d have changed his mind but he was in Kabul where his job had evolved into trying to manage Governor Daoud and his master, Afghan president Karzai. So he overruled his junior officers’ concerns and the troops remained in Sangin in what developed into a relentless, daily barrage from the surrounding Taliban.

Already it was clear the critics had been right: a) the deployment to Afghanistan was too small; b) it had truckled to political pressure and spread its forces too thinly; c) it wasn’t going to be a peacekeeping deployment but a full-on conflict.

Chapter 23. Counterinsurgency in Iraq

Fairweather’s account of the revolution in military doctrine brought about by General David Petraeus who tries to re-orient the US Army approach from a ‘capture and kill the bad guys’ approach to a more imaginative deployment of counterinsurgency doctrine. The Americans referred to the British Army’s experience in the Malaya ’emergency’ i.e. how it handled an insurgency by revolutionary communist guerrillas. The main thing is to shift the goal from capturing or killing insurgents to winning over the general population by ensuring security. This shift in thinking is the central theme of Thomas E Ricks’s two books, Fiasco and The Gamble.

I believed all this until I read Frank Ledwidge’s devastating book, Losing Small Wars. There he points out two fundamental factors which the counterinsurgency proponents didn’t take into account. In Malaya, as later in Northern Ireland, a) there was one government whose fundamental legitimacy the majority of the population didn’t question; and there was b) an effective, impartial, well trained police force. Neither of these factors was present in Iraq or Afghanistan. On the contrary the ‘governments’ of both countries were deeply contested by large parts of the population, were widely seen as corrupt and parti pris; and the police forces in both countries were bywords for corruption and backsliding i.e. running away or turning their guns on their supposed Western allies whenever it came to a fight.

As the redeployment to Helmand began to be thought through, officers in Basra came under pressure to speed up the process of handing over responsibility to the Iraqi police and army. Only problem being, they were often corrupt and ineffective. Didn’t matter:

The army leadership was preparing to dispense with its commitment to create a competent Iraqi security force in the name of political expediency. (p.251)

Security in Basra was collapsing. The News of the World published a video of British soldiers beating detainees which triggered 48 rocket and mortars fired at the Abu Naji camp. Sectarian strife increased. A Sunni cleric was killed and new corpses turned up every day.

In January 2006 a further round of elections were held. Now, after weeks of horse trading, following the elections, Shia politician Nouri al-Maliki was finally appointed Prime Minister. He hated the British. British forces had arrested his grandfather in a 1920 Shia uprising. He saw the British presence as a continuation of its old imperial ambitions. On his first visit to Basra he told the British authorities he didn’t want to meet them.

Fairweather gives an illuminating account of the Ministry of Defence and army’s notorious problems with commissioning the right kit and equipment. While the army spent hundreds of millions on hi-tech, computerised gewgaws to fight the next world war, it neglected basic transport vehicles solid enough to resist improvised explosive devices.

Six month rotations ensured that just as each set of officers and men was coming to know the people and the job, it was rotated back to the UK and a completely new set came in. These were often led by a commanding officer determined to ignore everything his predecessor had done and implement his own pet theories. This was a recipe for inconsistency and incoherence. Fairweather cites the replacement of the bullish General Shireff with the scholarly General Jonathan Shaw in January 2007 (p.302).

He has an upsetting passage about post-traumatic stress disorder and the inadequate care the army takes of its psychiatrically damaged veterans. American studies suggest that 15% of veterans will suffer PTSD (p.256). The poor care for the physically wounded veterans at the Selly Oak hospital in Birmingham caused a scandal in the media (p.281). The scandal was to lead to the establishment of the extremely successful Help for Heroes charity (note, p.393).

The entire policy of withdrawing from south Iraq in order to redeploy to Afghanistan was thrown into doubt when the Brits handed over the main base in Muthanna province to the local security services then, a few days later, a crowd of several hundred assembled and stormed the base, the Iraqi security forces melting away as they were wont to do, whereupon the mob stripped the base of all the expensive equipment, looting all the arms and equipment the Americans had stocked it with. Farce (p.270).

In August British forces handed over Camp Abu Naji outside Amarah to local security forces. Within an hour word had spread, a few hours later a mob had assembled, and a few hours after that the crowd entered the base and comprehensively sacked and looted it. After spending £80 million trying to reconstruct the province the British were leaving it in the worst possible state. A ‘debacle’ and ‘fiasco’, the loss of Abu Naji brought the British army’s reputation among the Americans to a new low.

6 September 2006

The dreadful day when four Paras defending the Kajaki Dam in Helmand got caught in a minefield, one fatality, three terrible injuries and the heroism of Chinook pilot Mark Hammond who flew sorties not only to the dam, but to Sangin and Musa Qaleh, too (p.275). In fact it was only a week later that the elders of Musa Qaleh came to Butler and brokered a ceasefire deal between him and the Taliban. Both sides would withdraw and fighting would cease. An eerie quiet descended over the battletorn town which had been badly damaged during 6 months of fighting. The British talked about reconstruction but brought only destruction.

Meanwhile in Basra new commander, Genera Richard Shireff proposed a bold new plan of increasing his force and embarking on a policy of clearing the city neighbourhood by neighbourhood of the JAM, handing it over to Iraqi police to hold and then civilian experts to deliver high impact development projects. Of course none of this ever happened. He could never get enough British troops and the Iraqi police were useless. After some civilian contractors were killed Margaret Beckett ordered the entire DFID contingent to leave Basra Palace base and be evacuated to Kuwait.

Back to the story of Haider the interpreter. He has married his sweetheart, Nora, and had a baby. Now he is thunderstruck to be told by his sympathetic boss, William Kearney, that the security firm is pulling out of Basra. Haider is going to lose his job and become more exposed to the JAM thugs who want to kill him for working with the infidel.

Chapter 28 The Surge, 2007

General Petraeus and retired general Jack Keane lobbied and persuaded president Bush not to quit and withdraw from a ruined Iraq but to take a gamble and increase troop numbers, by 30,000, the famous ‘surge’. General Casey was replaced by Petraeus as commander in chief.

The so-called Surge coincided with the so-called Sunni Awakening which was when Sunni tribes finally sickened of being threatened and dominated by al Qaeda militias. Delicate negotiations persuaded many Sunni tribes to accept American money and support to take on the terrorist group.

Baghdad had now become the epicentre of the civil war between Sunni and Shia, with mass ethnic cleansing, 200 deaths a week, and concrete walls separating ethnic neighbourhoods. Fairweather mentions the role of British civilian and pacifist Emma Sky as an unlikely adviser to hulking American general Ray Ordieno (pages 292 to 296).

Detailed description of the negotiations initiated by British General Graeme Lamb and James Simonds to convert Sunni militia leader Abu Azzam over to the Coalition side, with a mixture of flattery, promises of jobs and money for his 1,000-strong militia. The central achievement of Emma Sky in making friends with a female member of Maliki’s cabinet, Basima al-Jadiri and from then onwards keeping lines of communication open between the coalition commander and stroppy Maliki (p.298).

The Brits had been working through the latter half of 2006 towards finally withdrawing from Basra, deceiving themselves about the readiness of the Iraqi security forces to take over, or that Shireff’s policy of clearing neighbourhoods was working. But just as the withdrawal began to be implemented the Americans were embarking on the exact opposite policy, bringing in more troops as part of their Surge. In this context British policy looked more than ever like running away.

The British were under pressure to look tough and so undertook daring missions, including seizing Jaish al-Mahdi leaders. At the same time they sought interlocutors to negotiate a peace with. Most important was to be the leader of Jaish al-Mahdi in Basra, Ahmed al-Fartosi, who they had arrested and imprisoned three years before, and whose arrest led to the reprisal kidnapping of the two SAS men.

The British made him a simple offer: call off militia attacks and in return the British would cease patrolling the city and release his imprisoned cadres on cohorts. The clincher was telling Fartosi he had to take the deal in order to get his men freed and enrolled in the security services before Iranian agents and politicians took over. Fartosi was Shia, fanatical Shia, he had taken money and arms from Iran – but drew the line at letting Iran take over his patch.

These are the kinds of subtleties or complexities created by ethnic, religious, tribal, warlord and gangland allegiances which the coalition failed to get to terms with. Emma Sky is described trying to persuade Ray Ordieno that he needed to stop lumping all opposition groups as al Qaeda or Ba’athists or ‘insurgents’ and learn to distinguish between them. Only then could the coalition figure out what they wanted and even start to find negotiated, political solutions to the chaos.

June 2007

Gordon Brown became Prime Minister after Tony Blair stepped down as Labour Party leader. According to Fairweather everyone in Whitehall and the military knew that Brown regarded Iraq as Blair’s folly and had no interest in throwing good money after bad. He wanted all British troops withdrawn as soon as reasonably possible. As always, politics. When the army staff told Brown cutting and running would infuriate the Americans Brown said ‘good’. In Britain, and further afield (in the European countries which were always against the war) it would draw a stark line between Brown and his predecessor, and win him kudos for standing up to the Yanks. Army planners at the British military command centre in Northwood drew up five withdrawal scenarios. Brown unhesitatingly chose the quickest (p.315).

Some top brass thought a rapid withdrawal would make the British public question the sacrifice made so far. But in the three months during which Blair had extended the British occupation to mollify the Americans, 11 more British soldiers had been killed. The opposite line was that the British had fought shoulder to shoulder with the Americans for four bloody years and enough was enough.

The Brits released Fartosi’s deputy, other detainees and complied with their side of the bargain to halt all patrols in Basra. However violent attacks continued, with relentless bombarding of the British HQ in Basra Palace. American command in Baghdad gave the British senior officers who came to explain their withdrawal timetable short shrift. As the Brits claimed that Basra’s police force was ready to enforce security, American officers laughed.

In August 2007 the deal with Fartosi began and he was given a small office in the the base prison complete with phone and fax machine. From here he organised a complete ceasefire and an uneasy calm fell over Basra. On 3 September the British commander handed over security governance to the Iraqi government general assigned the job, and 600 soldiers left Basra Palace in a convoy of Warriors, armoured cars, lorries piled high with office furniture. They drove the ten miles to Basra airport. The idea is a residual force would stay there for up to a year to continue to train Iraqi army and police force. The JAM militia held wild celebrations at the ‘liberation’ of their city.

Story of Haider the interpreter, continued

Since the start of the year a number of interpreters had been executed by the militias. Terrifying story of him attending his brother-in-law’s wedding procession of twenty or so cars when it was intercepted by trucks with no plates, armed men leapt out, ran across to the car which contained Haider and his wife but grabbed Nora’s cousin by mistake, hauled him out of the car, threw him in the trucks, and roared off while the women screamed and wept. Next day the cousin’s corpse is found with a scrap of paper telling Haider to ring a mobile phone number. Haider’s wife’s uncle, Ali, arranges for him to flee to Iran with a fake passport and a little money. Then the militiamen kidnap Ali and call Haider, saying he must return or Ali will be murdered.

Haider makes a plan, to return to Basra, collect his family and go to the British base. Gordon Brown had announced a fast track visa process for Iraqi interpreters. He takes a minivan cab and collects his wife, mother, sister and three brothers but when they get to the British base, security won’t let them through.

Anyway, it turns into a real odyssey. They walk to a gas station where an old geezer has a taxi. Haider tells them they’re refugees and the old guy takes them home and lets them sleep in his apartment. But next morning he starts getting suspicious. Haider’s contact inside the British base tells him the precise paperwork he needs, but it involves getting an old style Iraqi passport which will take ages.

Haider has a brainwave and rings up a doctor he knew at medical school. Reluctantly, the doctor agrees to house them all in a spare room in his clinic, knowing he’s risking reprisals from the militia. Haider has a phone so he rings his old boss and friend William Kearney. Kearney jumps into action ringing round contacts to get Haider’s paperwork approved asap. He commissions a journalist to write a piece about the plight of interpreters and he even – and at this point we start to realise why we’ve been hearing so much about this poor man – arranges for Haider to do an interview with Radio 4’s Today programme, from the spare room at the clinic where he’s in hiding. Atmosphere of Anne Frank’s loft. Every time they heard footsteps in the corridor they froze in fear.

There are more hurdles to jump through, judges to be bribed, paperwork to be secured, relations pressed into running round the city getting the right documents. After a week they take another cab to the British base but Haider is now told that his brothers and sister aren’t eligible. He loses his rag.

When the British had needed him he had risked his life, but when he needed their help all he got was red tape. (p.326)

And now, 16 years later, the same treatment dished out to Afghan interpreters fleeing the Taliban. What a disgraceful, disgusting country Britain is.

Abandoning Basra

So the British abandoned Basra and the Shia militia took over, quickly intimidating the Iraqi police into staying in their stations, while black hooded armed men patrolled the streets, hitting women who weren’t properly covered and embarking on a campaign of murder and extortion. The Iraqi Way. A British officer, Colonel Andy Bristow, helps the new Iraqi governor of Basra, General Mohan al-Faraji, but quickly realises the deal with Fartosi to allow us to leave in peace, effectively undermined the police i.e. bankrupted the whole reason for us being there in the first place. When Mohan found out the British had gone behind his back to do a deal with the head of the militia to release back onto the streets over 1,000 criminal detainees, he was apoplectic.

It was just the sort of double-dealing the British were infamous for during their colonial days. (p.330)

On 31 December 2007 Fartosi himself was finally released from prison and within days (January 2008) war broke out between Jaish al-Mahdi and Mohan’s police force. The British base itself came under sustained mortar attack. The deal with Fartosi had failed. Not only that but the situation in Helmand was deteriorating, Ceasefires with local Taliban commanders had failed and the fighting was fiercer than ever. The army desperately needed to move its Basra forces to Helmand.

Fairweather then gives a typically detailed account of the way the new advisor to General Mohan, the Brit Colonel Richard Iron, conceives a plan to deliver a US-style surge but just to Basra. As mentor to Mohan he is outside the British chain of command and so a) gets Mohan to present it as a request to the Basra commander, something the Brits are meant to help with, b) schmoozes with the Americans in Baghdad who love it. Petraeus is won over and the Yanks begin making plans to send troops to help the meagre British presence from the air base.

BUT. At one of these co-ordination meetings everyone is stunned to learn that Prime Minister Nouri al-Malaki, having been briefed about it some weeks before, has taken the bull by the horns, and ordered his own surge in Basra, using native Iraqi troops!

Long story short: the Iraqi army took on the Jaish al-Mahdi in Basra and won! Over 6,000 Iraqi troops marched on Basra and Maliki himself flew in to supervise. To begin with it was chaos, with Iraqi units disintegrating or being blown to pieces by the heavily armed and motivated JAMsters. But the Americans couldn’t allow this to fail and so diverted troops and planes south to join the fight. The British administrator on the ground was humiliatingly denied entrance to meetings between Maliki and the American commander in chief. Maliki blamed the British for letting Basra sink to this level. The American military no longer trusted the Brits to do anything. Anyway, bureaucracy and reluctance to overturn the withdrawal plans meant only a handful of British officers were available. The Iraqis and Americans got on without them. National embarrassment. Humiliation.

Meanwhile Mohan was sacked and a new Iraqi commander put in place. American General Flynn told British brigade headquarters he’d flown in to stop the Brits failing again. Fairweather calls it ‘a damning indictment’ and laments ‘Britain’s battered reputation’. The senior British officers hung their heads in shame (p.337).

Then, to everyone’s surprise, there was a ceasefire. Unknown to the Brits or Yanks Maliki had sent delegations to the Iranian city of Qom to ask al-Sadr and the commander of the Iranian al-Quds Force to broker a ceasefire. Maliki knew that the Iranians had a vested interest in seeing him re-elected, as a moderate Shia Prime Minister, whereas defeat in Basra risked plunging the south into chaos and also triggering a resurgence of Sunni resistance. On balance it was in Iranian interests to rein in their proxies. So The message came back to Fartosi to cease fire. The guns fell silent. The Jaish al-Mahdi forces disappeared. Fartosi and other notorious leaders left Iraq altogether.

A few days later Iraqi forces occupied all the Jaish al-Mahdi strongholds. The insurgency in Basra was over and it had nothing to do with the Brits or the Americans but backroom deals between Middle Eastern players. In an ironic way it was a triumph because it showed that normal Middle Eastern politics, with all its corruption and sectarian horsetrading, had been restored.

But there was nothing the British C-in-C, Brigadier Julian Free, could do ‘to restore American faith in British competence’ (p.339).

Epilogue: summer 2011

In Fairweather’s view the retaking of Basra was a watershed. The Iraqi army then retook Amara (where Sergeant Danny Mills and his sniper platoon had such a torrid time in 2006) and routed Jaish al-Mahdi from Baghdad.

In the January 2009 provincial elections Maliki’s party defeated Sadrist politicians (i.e. politicians loyal to Muqtada al-Sadr). Maybe it was even some kind of democracy. A very corrupt form of democracy, Iraq sits on the fourth largest oil reserves in the world. Fortunes are made by politicians with fingers in the pie. Leaked documents and other evidence show the Iraqi police force settling back into old Saddam methods of arbitrary arrest and gruesome torture.

In Iraq’s March 2010 elections the slippery old chancer Ayad Allawi won the popular vote, with the backing of Saudi Arabia, because he is a Sunni Muslim. (On a simple geopolitical level, Iraqi politics are riddled with the rivalry between Sunni Saudi Arabia to the south and Shia Iran to the east). However, in the backroom horsetrading Iran leaned on Muqtada al-Sadr to get his supporters to support Maliki who therefore re-emerged as Prime Minister in November 2010 (serving till 2014).

Through the summer of 2009 the British troops left Basra airbase. In total more than 120,000 British soldiers served in Iraq. As many as 15% of them might be expected to suffer mental illness as a consequence i.e. 18,000. 179 British personnel died, 5,970 were injured. Best guesses are that in the region of 100,000 Iraqis lost their lives.

Fairweather’s figures are that the war cost roughly £1 billion a year, total about £8 billion. Fairweather injects a political note (remember he wrote for the Daily Telegraph, what is now a very right-wing newspaper):

As schools go unbuilt in the UK, hospitals close, and tens of thousands of teachers, nurses, soldiers and policemen lose their jobs, the Iraq war has become a symbol of the profligacy and waste of the New Labour government. (p.344)

As to Afghanistan, in 2009 the Americans were forced to intervene as the British, yet again, lost control of the situation, sending a surge of 30,000 US troops to retake the province from the resurgent Taliban. The economy is still dirt poor. And there is no educated middle class to provide administrators and politicians.

As of summer 2011, 374 British service personnel had died in Helmand, 1,608 had been injured, 493 seriously. More than 10,000 Afghans had died. Gordon Brown estimated the war cost Britain £10 billion.

And Haider the interpreter, the Iraqi who Fairweather uses as a kind of barometer of Britain’s failing efforts in Basra? At the time of writing he lived in Hull, in accommodation provided by the British government, with his wife and two children. He’d like to return to Iraq but is still scared to.

The blame

As you’d expect, Fairweather holds Tony Blair chiefly to account for committing Britain to two wars it couldn’t win – but he’s harsher on the army. Senior generals gave consistently poor advice and the army as a whole was guilty of institutional failings, most importantly it’s continually over-optimistic predictions, its wrong assessments of the situation in both Iraq and Afghanistan, its insistence it could carry out both deployments with what quickly became clear were inadequate men and resources. In both places they ignored the well-informed warnings of experts in the field.

Most tellingly, senior officials at the MoD and armed services have come to see war as a way of maintaining their budgets. Fairweather wonders if the fact that this is the only way the MoD can secure adequate funding explains why Britain’s armed forces have been in conflict almost continuously for the past 15 years.

Short-termism. All kinds of delusions led planners to think a 3-year deployment to Helmand would be enough. The average length of a counter-insurgency campaign is 14 years. Proper state building takes even longer. Either commit, or don’t intervene.

Summary

This is an outstanding chronological history of Britain’s deployment to Iraq and Afghanistan. Fairweather not only explains the complex political and financial realities at work in the British government and the fraught relationship with our American ‘allies’, but switches scene and focus with extraordinary confidence.

He gives what must surely be definitive accounts of specific firefights and battles (his 5 pages describing the murder of the six military police is exemplary) but he is just as confident describing conversations between the top power players, be they Yanks like Rumsfeld, Rice and Bremer, or Brits like Blair, Brown and Campbell.

And his narrative introduces us to an extraordinarily wide range of named individuals through whose stories and eyes we get really insider insights into every aspect of the situation, from Brits appalled at decisions in Whitehall or the chaos of the CPA, through the civilian governors struggling to control their provinces, to the experiences of scores of officers and men involved in fierce firefights on the ground.

It’s a panoramic, encyclopedic account. It really is outstanding.


P.S. A study in ignorance

Seen from another angle, this excellent book a study in several types of stupidity and ignorance.

The obvious, easy-to-see kind of ignorance, is how everyone involved in the planning and implementation of the quick invasion of Iraq in March 2003 and then the painfully slow, ineffective ‘reconstruction’ of the ruined country, had poor-to-zero grasp of the reality of Iraqi society, politics and culture. That was obvious to anyone with a brain before the war started, and became obvious to people without a brain, eventually even to the American neoconservatives who had planned and launched the war, as the years went by and their efforts became evermore expensive and futile.

The less obvious kind of ignorance is a fundamental premise of this blog and my worldview, which is that we don’t understand our own society or our selves. In his 2015 book, ‘The Soul of the Marionette’, John Gray explains that there will never be true artificial intelligence because nobody understands what human intelligence is. Sure, we can define and measure numerous aspects of intelligence like solving complex maths problems or winning at chess, but the full package of what makes a human being human, the complex interplay of calculation, hunch, guesswork, emotion and intuition – nobody understands it, how it works, let alone how it is produced by the brain.

So if we don’t understand what intelligence is, how can we artificially create it? We may be able to produce computer programs which solve problems faster than any human, and are able to teach themselves better and better techniques etc, and can answer any question plausibly, but it will never be anything like human intelligence, and those who think so are fools.

Same with democracy. Simpletons like George W Bush and Tony Blair thought all you had to do was overthrow a dictator and organise some cobbled-together elections, and you’d have yourself a functioning democracy. What this imbecile level of naivety shows is not so much that neither of them had a clue about Arab or Muslim societies, and about Iraq in particular (which they didn’t, and which this book demonstrates at humiliating and embarrassing length) – what it showed is they hadn’t a clue about how our own democratic societies work.

1. The civic basis of democracy

They didn’t have a clue about their own political evolution: about the very long history, the centuries-long evolution, through trial and error and revolutions and civil wars, and the taming of religion and the controlling of aristocracies and oligarchies, and the campaigns of working class parties and trade unions and then the long struggle for women’s suffrage – which lie behind the present form of the far-from-perfect, so-called ‘democracies’ which operate in the USA and UK.

2. The Christian basis of democracy

And that’s without going into the huge part of the story derived from religion: the slow evolution of Christianity with its emphasis on the value of the individual, through the overthrow of Catholic ideology at the Reformation, and the Protestant Revolution which ushered in new ideas about the individual, about individual agency, responsibility, rights and duties, which had to be painfully thrashed out during centuries of civil war and political turmoil, the overthrow of kings, the grudging allowance of limited forms of religious tolerance in Britain the late 17th century, which struggled against the odds throughout the 18th and inspired the American revolutionaries to their clear statement of principles in the American constitution. There’s no evidence of this kind of huge, conceptual, long-term evolution taking place in the political-religious ideology of modern Islam. The opposite: reactionary forms of Islam have been on the rise throughout the Middle East since the Iranian revolution of 1979.

3. The economic basis of democracy

And all that is without going into the economic history which lies behind our democratic societies, whose development paralleled the political, religious and philosophical strands. Modern progressives are keen to attribute the rise of the West to ruthless exploitation, to the profits from the Atlantic slave trade and the rapacity of European imperialism. The older, traditional school of history attributed ‘the rise of the West’ to a huge range of intellectual inventions, from the establishment of the Bank of England and a national debt, through the invention of copyright and business law which created incentives for innovators and inventors, to the inventors themselves who devised the seed drill or the steam engine among thousands of other world-changing technologies (ideas handily summarised in Niall Ferguson’s Civilization: The West and the Rest).

However you combine these and other elements to explain ‘the Rise of the West’, there’s no denying that Britain, most of the other European nations, and then America and Japan, represent a level of legal, social and technological achievement which far outranks the other 180 or so nations on earth.

Neo-con delusions

Now do you get a sense of the depth of the ignorance of the American neo-cons and their poodle, Tony? They thought overthrowing a dictator and getting his dazed population to line up at voting booths would be it, job done, creation of ‘democracy’. They thought creating an unstable government and holding a few phoney elections amounted to ‘nation building’ and stood any chance at all of transforming Iraq in a few short months into a beacon of peace, plenty and democracy for the rest of the Middle East to follow.

That’s what George Bush, Dick Cheney, Donald Rumsfeld, Douglas Feith and their supporters thought would happen. Surely the word ‘imbecile’ isn’t forceful enough to describe this level of fatuous ignorance – not only about what Iraqi society was like, but about what makes their own country tick – about what makes the 20 or so developed western nations what they are, and why this unique religious, philosophical, legal, cultural, social, economic and technological history can’t just be bundled up into vacuum packs, flown into a developing country in the holds of Hercules transport planes and handed out to cheering crowds like bottled water. What morons!


Credit

A War of Choice: Honour, Hubris and Sacrifice: The British in Iraq by Jack Fairweather was published by Jonathan Cape in 2012. References are to the 2012 paperback edition.

Related links

New world disorder reviews

The Unravelling: High Hopes and Missed Opportunities in Iraq by Emma Sky (2015)

‘The Coalition promised regime change but instead brought about state collapse.’
(Unnamed Iraqi general quoted on page 101)

This is a disappointing book.

Emma Sky is mentioned half a dozen time in Thomas E. Ricks’s book The Gamble: General David Petraeus and the American Military Adventure in Iraq, 2006 to 2008. Her story is extraordinary. Aged 35 she had travelled widely in the Middle East, working for various charities and NGOs. She was working for the British Council back in Blighty when the organisation sent round an email asking if anyone wanted to volunteer to work for the new Coalition Provision Authority (CPA) being set up in the immediate aftermath of the US-led victory over Saddam Hussein in Iraq (May 2003).

Although relying on the authority of the US Army, the CPA itself was an entirely civilian organisation, charged with reconstructing every aspect of Iraqi society, battered by 8 years of war with Iran (1980 to 1988) then 12 years of sanctions after the first Gulf War (1991 to 2003), and then a second bout of disastrously accurate US bombing designed to destroy its infrastructure. The CPA was desperate. Anyone from one of the main allies with experience of working in the Middle East was considered.

Indeed Sky describes the astonishing lack of professionalism about the process whereby she applied, was interviewed, was hired, and found herself on a plane to Baghdad. No-one met her at the airport and when she reported to the ‘Green Zone’ in Baghdad where the new authority was still setting itself up she was casually offered the role of ‘Governorate Coordinator’ of the province of Kirkuk in the north of Iraq, and just as casually accepted it. Within days she found herself based in a military barracks in Kirkuk deep in Iraqi Kurdish territory, one of only a handful of women among over 3,500 US soldiers, and sharing an office with the military commander, Colonel William Mayville of the 173rd Airborne Brigade (p.60).

On pages 17 to 21 Sky gives a potted biography of herself. She came from a broken home whose mother, nonetheless, managed to send her to prep and private school, from where she went on to Oxford and then the British Council. So, poor but pukka. This makes the sequence of events which led to her running an Iraqi province a bit more understandable, but not much.

Little did Emma realise at the time that her destiny was to be intertwined with Iraq for the next ten years nor that she would rise to play a key role as adviser to the head of the US Army in Iraq, General Ray Odierno. To be a bit more precise Emma had two periods of work in Iraq, punctuated by roles elsewhere, before she left altogether to move into academia. Her CV goes something like:

  • 2003 to 2004 Iraq: Governorate Coordinator of Kirkuk
  • 2005 Jerusalem: Political Advisor to General Kip Ward, the US Security Co-ordinator for the Middle East Peace Process
  • 2006 Kabul, Afghanistan: Development Advisor to the Italian and British Commanding Generals of NATO’s International Security Assistance Force
  • 2007 to 2010 Iraq: Political Advisor to US General Raymond T. Odierno, Commanding General of Multi-National Corps; and to General David Petraeus on the subject of reconciliation
  • 2011 to 2012 UK: Visiting Professor at King’s College London and a Fellow at Oxford’s Changing Character of War Programme
  • 2012 America: Senior Fellow at the Yale Jackson School of Global Affairs
  • 2015: Director of the Yale World Fellows international leadership development program

So during her two spells in Iraq, Sky was a central figure. She worked with all the key players on the US side, and met all the powerful Iraqi politicians and religious leaders, as well as countless Iraqis lower down the pecking order, regional administrators, tribal chiefs and so on, right down to the man and woman in the street. She sat in on meetings which made key decisions about Iraq’s future, advised on many of them, had to implement ones she profoundly disagreed with.

It’s a chunky narrative (363 pages), with maps and glossary, which take us from the early days of the occupation in 2003 through to the withdrawal of US troops by President Obama in December 2011 and then through the years of Iraq’s collapse which led to the advent of Islamic State, which rose at great speed to take control of much of northern Iraq by July 2014, which is when Sky’s narrative ends.

Wow. She covers the entire period, she is a clever, independent woman with strong opinions of her own, she isn’t shy about criticising the leaders of the US civilian and military administrations to their faces. She has hundreds of good anecdotes to tell. So why is her book so disappointing?

Two reasons: the flat limited quality of her political analysis, and her pedestrian prose style. Thomas E. Ricks’s highly analytical account of the periods 2003 to 2006 (Fiasco) and 2006 to 2009 (The Gamble) proceeds by ideas or themes. Events out on the street are only mentioned insofar as they influence high-level American political or military policy, which is what Ricks is really interested in.

Sky’s narrative, by contrast, is more like a diary, like the diary of a very clever, independent-minded, sixth form schoolgirl. I did this. Then I did this. I attended dinner with so and so. I met so and so for the first time. Next day we went to meet tribal chiefs. I suggested we set up a committee to ensure better representation / rebuild the economy / provide more schools. That evening there was a formal reception. About this time a religious leader became prominent. I met him at a meeting of tribal chiefs. And so on.

Instead of being arranged by ideas or issue the narrative reads like one damn thing after another. It lacks detachment and analysis, an impression not helped by her often very naive impressions of people. She meets all the key players but her assessments are surprisingly shallow. Ricks portrays all the politicians and religious leaders in post-war Iraq jostling for power, focuses on their roles in Iraq’s poisonous power politics. It’s a rogues gallery of crooks and players. By complete contrast, Sky tells us they’re nice people and have lovely eyes (I’m not kidding, she has a thing about people’s honest trustworthy eyes). She makes friends with lots of leading sheikhs or clerics and is always bursting into tears when it’s time to leave (again I’m not exaggerating; there’s lots of crying).

Her prose style is dead in the water, flat and factual with overtones of The Little House on The Prairie.

We celebrated America’s Independence Day with the Kurds by the shores of Lake Dukan. It was apparently the largest lake in Kurdistan, created by the construction of a dam on the Little Zab River in the 1950s. I sat watching the sun set over the mountains. (p.15)

Or:

In the evenings I would often sit with Colonel Mayville in his office describing the state of the province. Our partnership developed into friendship. To my surprise I found myself growing to like the Colonel as a person and respecting him enormously. I came to realise that behind the bravado was a deep intellect – and a wicked sense of humour. (p.37)

Or:

Kara took me into Kirkuk city one afternoon. We ate in a restaurant and then walked through the market. It felt great to escape the cage from which I viewed Iraq and plunge once more into the Middle East, inhaling deeply the smells of coffee and vegetables, and feasting my eyes on the colours and peoples. (p.61)

‘Wicked sense of humour’, ‘feasting my eyes’. These are magazine clichés and have a cumulatively deadening effect. To quote linguist David Crystal, clichés are phrases which have ‘lost their meaning through overuse. They have become automatic reactions, verbal tics, a replacement for intelligent thinking…’ (The Story of English in 100 Words, 2012).

Every chapter has an epigraph. The epigraph to chapter 1 is: ‘All we are saying is give peace a chance,’ the John Lennon song. I realised at that moment that the narrative was likely to be as obvious and clichéd as that choice of song, and so it turned out.

Moments of thumping obviousness this occur again and again throughout the book and steadily lower your opinion of Sky. She comes over as the kind of person who’d think putting a sign in her office reading ‘Keep calm and drink tea’ was original and funny. Shame. This book cost a lot of money (£10), took 3 or 4 days to read, and wasn’t worth it.

Looking for father figures

In the Ricks book Sky is cited as coming to enormously admire the senior US military personnel she met; in fact she is quoted as saying the US Army is much better than the country it serves. In the hard-headed, cynical context of Ricks’s narrative that feels like an astonishing thing for an outsider, and a pacifist-minded British woman, to say. Unfortunately, once you enter the world of Sky’s narrative with its tendency to gush and hero worship, it doesn’t seem at all surprising.

In this respect I came to realise that the most important fact in the book is when she tells us, really early on in the narrative, that her father left her mother when she was very small. She never knew him, she grew up without a father (p.17). In fact happened not once, but twice. After he biological father walked out her mother fell in love again, and it was this step-father who organised Emma’s education at private schools and then onto Oxford. But while she was at university this step-father ran off with another woman, ‘leaving my mother heartbroken, penniless and distraught’ (p.20). So it happened twice, being abandoned by a father.

I was an only child from a broken-down family. (p.163)

So deep was the wound that she openly tells us it was this that made her, on graduating from university, decide to set out on an adventure to North Africa, ‘to escape the grief and anxiety that family seemed to cause’ (p.20).

I’m not projecting this into her narrative. It’s she herself who devotes several pages right at the start to explaining all this. So it seems pretty reasonable to see these traumatic childhood and teenage experiences as explaining why Sky is so quick to hero worship the big, strong military men she was working with, most of whom are old enough to be, er, her father.

After a while you realise that everywhere she goes, she’s looking for Daddy. Judge for yourself this description of her first meeting with the man who would become the head of the US Army in Iraq:

I could not believe my eyes when I first caught sight of General Odierno. I had never seen such a large human being. He almost seemed a different species. His head was totally shaven. His hands were massive. Yet his face was strangely striking and his eyes were kind. (p.46)

And:

General O was our undisputed boss. He was so big, so confident, so decisive and so determined. I was in awe of him. I thought he was indestructible. As I was sure he could not be killed I felt totally safe when I was with him…(p.163)

And:

I loved travelling with General O and the Sergeant Major. There was so much warmth between the three of us and respect for what we each brought to the mission. (p.171)

And it’s not just big lovable General O. Sky finds father figures everywhere. Take General Mayville.

One evening we went to the local orphanage that we visited from time to time…After the dinner we distributed the presents that had been sent out by the soldiers’ families, keen as ever to support our efforts. It was wonderful to watch the children’s faces light up, loving the attention and gifts. Mayville naturally fell back into the role of father, playing with the kids. (p.74)

Again and again she’s quick to establish father figure-daughter relations with strong or older or important men. Sky’s concern and ability to listen impresses all the Iraqis she comes into contact with (she tells us). But quite often it’s difficult to tell whether she’s being respected or patronised.

Colonel Mayville and I decided in October that it was time to visit [prominent cleric Abdel-Fatah] Mousawi in the al-Husseini Mosque. Sheikh Agar, who frequented the mosque, agreed to take us. He brought me one of his daughter’s abayas and gave it to me as a gift. As we climbed out of the car I covered myself in the abaya, much to everyone’s amusement. Sheikh Agar beamed approval. ‘You are my daughter,’ he said. (p.64)

Or:

Somehow I never felt totally at ease with General Farouq. He kept saying that I was like a daughter to him. (p.192)

Or the extended scene towards the end when it’s announced that General O is being promoted and moving on. He asks about her plans, for example does she intend to marry, have kids maybe, a topic she finds ‘uncomfortable’, maybe because it’s none of his damned business, but also, the Freudian reader by this stage realises, because her unconscious desires (for protection and affection) are projected onto him. ‘He was being all paternal’ (p.341).

Crying

Sky not only converts the men she’s engaging with into father figures, but repeatedly casts herself as a little girl lost. When the tour of duty of the 173rd Airborne Brigade comes to an end and they rotate back to the States, Sky attends the elaborate army ceremony marking the handover to the replacement regiment and makes an emotional speech to the assembled regiment on how much she’s come to respect and admire them all. When their commander, Mayville, shakes her hand and leaves, she is inconsolable with grief. She tells us she spent the entire afternoon crying. Why? Another Daddy has left her (p.89).

Throughout the book this keeps happening; she makes close friends with the locals (pretty much 100% men) or with senior US military figures (all men); then she or they have to leave – when she moves from Kirkuk on to work in Baghdad, or when she leaves Iraq altogether – and there’s lots of crying.

Ismail Abudi came round to see me at the Northern Oil Company in Kirkuk where I was staying the night. We sat on the roof chatting…We discussed the 30 June deadline [when the CPA was due to hand over authority to the Iraqi transitional government]. I told him I would be leaving. ‘No…tell me it is not true,’ he said. We sat on the roof in total darkness with tears streaming down our faces. (p.115)

The Chinook helicopter carrying members of the CPA out of Iraq takes off and:

I had tears streaming down my face. (p.127)

Much later, when she’s leaving for the second time, she goes to visit Sheikh Anwar al-Assi to say goodbye and he tells her to write a book about her experiences. And then:

There were tears in both our eyes when we shook hands. (p.339)

The only woman among men

The other pattern which keeps repeating is the way Sky finds herself the only woman among men. This, also, stems back to her childhood. In that autobiographical sketch she tells us that when she was four her mother got a job as matron at an all-boys preparatory school near Oxford. When she was 7 she was accepted into the school as a boarder, one of only five girls in an all-boys school. When she was ten the stepfather mentioned above entered her life and took her to a new school, The Old Ride, in Bradford-on-Avon. Here she was the only girl at the school (p.17).

She claims to have hated it, saying it was a Lord of the Flies-type experience, with the boys being beastly etc. Nonetheless, it sheds great light on the experience most of this book is dedicated to describing, the way she ‘found herself’ the only woman in a US Army barracks of 3,500 soldiers in the remote north of Iraq, as if this is a completely unexpected surprise instead of, to the Freudian reader, a classic example of a lonely adult seeking to recreate the safe environment of their childhood.

What happens when you are the only woman in a US Army barracks of 3,500 soldiers? You are showered with attention. Lots of big tough men go out of their way to behave chivalrously, open doors, call you ma’am, shower you with attention. You become a very special and notable person.

Same happens when she attends the countless meetings of Kirkuki Arabs or Kurds or Turkmen, Sunni or Shia, religious officials, council meetings, army meetings, and so on: she is again and again the only woman in the room. From time to time she describes this as a great achievement but to the Freudian reader it feels like a situation she has engineered from deep psychological needs. She acquires affectionate nicknames, the Iraqis call her Emmasky, she is effusively greeted and hugged wherever she goes by sheikhs and mullahs.

On one level, obviously this all happened and she (presumably) performed an important function as adviser to the military and civil authorities, first in Kirkuk then in Baghdad. But because she herself has announced the themes of abandonment and loneliness, in some detail, right at the start of the narrative, it is hard not to read the book as the record of a partnerless young woman who again and again places herself in the almost exclusive company of men where she can be made to feel important, and showered with the male love and affection which she completely missed as a child.

I was met at the airport by an Italian colonel who greeted me with a big smile: ‘We are five hundred Italian  men with no women to dance with.’ (p.134)

Thus after her friend Sheikh Agar is assassinated, she attends the funeral and goes on to describe the way she has been virtually adopted by his family:

As I walked in I heard the whisper, ‘Emmasky has come’ being passed down the line. I spoke to the sons. The younger one, who I had often seen around the government building, had aged years. ‘Allah yarhamu,’ (May God have mercy on him), ‘Inna lillali wa inna ilaihi raji’un‘ (We are all from God and to him we return). Family members spoke to me. ‘You are our sister.’ ‘You are my brother’s daughter’. Sheikh Agar, bless him, had told all his family about me. And they were touched I had made the journey from Baghdad to pay my respects. Grief lay heavy in the air. I sat in the tent, the sole woman among so many men. (p.106)

This is just one of the surrogate families she is seeking in order to make up for the one she never knew in childhood:

I was on General O’s team. And no matter how badly we disagreed or argued he was not going to throw me out. This was a family that worked through its problems and did not break down. (p.197)

And so when her second tour of duty as adviser to General Odierno comes to an end, at the end of December 2007, there is the characteristic departure ceremony, with speeches and presents, during which Odierno very graciously thanks Emma for all her help and advice.

His loyalty towards me was extraordinary. And I knew, if ever called on again, I would follow him to the ends of the world – and that he would listen to my advice on how to get there.

Odierno is Emma’s Super Daddy. Then it’s her turn to make a speech, telling the assembled soldiers it had been an honour and privilege to be part of their team. And inside she knew:

I meant it. Amid the horror of war, I had experienced more love and camaraderie than I had ever known. (p.241)

When she has her second farewell, because she’s not just leaving Iraq, the Americans are leaving Iraq, and so she attends the passing out parade held by General O, at which he gives a long heartfelt speech to the assembled troops, then:

A long line had gathered to shake General O’s hand and say goodbye. I hung around saying my farewells to the military men who had made me feel so much one of their band of brothers. (p.342)

Solecisms

This is trivial, really, but your faith in her narrative is frequently rocked by small but symptomatic mistakes in English phraseology. Here she is describing how you ought to avoid a particular seat in an American military helicopter, the one right by the open door which is nicknamed the ‘hurricane seat’:

Whoever sat in the back right seat would have the wind soar through their face, with cheeks and mouth flapping furiously. (p.30)

‘Soar through their face’?

Then again

Then again let’s stop and take stock: Sky is a bureaucrat and maybe this is how effective bureaucrats think and write – in stock formulae, obvious clichés, with a shaky grasp of English. Thomas E. Ricks is a journalist, so he’s paid to make stories sound gripping and important, he’s paid above all to write. Sky is a bureaucrat: her job is to invite people to committee meetings, distribute the agenda, manage relationships with key stakeholders, maintain the organisation’s values, defuse confrontations, find negotiating positions. In other words, her job is to use the safe and uncontroversial language of large organisations, not to rattle cages, to soothe ruffled feathers, to seek consensus, not to stand out or be original.

Having worked in UK government departments and agencies for 15 years or so, I recognise the type and recognise the tone of voice, full of terms borrowed from the private sector – where they mean something – and imported into the public sector where they are neutered of all meaning and verve.

Thus Sky tells us that she held a series of meetings with a view to improving the ethnic balance of the Provincial Council – fair enough – but when she goes on to tell us that ‘”No change” was not an option’ you can hear the tone of the civil servant or bureaucrat, quietly priding themselves on their no-nonsense attitude and tough talk.

In reality Sky seems to have been a people person. Her key achievements aren’t setting up this or that committee (though the narrative is larded with references to them) but getting people to trust her. The stories about local leaders accepting her as family, welcoming them to meals, festivals or funerals which I’ve cited, and more like them, testify to what seems to have been her key skill: this was getting suspicious people, in very perilous situations, to trust her sufficiently that they could talk to her, make their demands clear, and then she work her magic at getting the cumbersome CPA or the military-civilian government which replaced it, to actually accede to these Iraqis’ requests and get them what they want. At which point they trust her even more, and decide to try to get their way without resorting to violence.

In this way, as the narrative develops, Sky becomes a kind of one-woman embodiment of the policy of Reconciliation which accompanied the US military surge in 2007.

And seen from this angle, her readiness to fall into father-daughter relationships with important men was a positive asset, because strong men let their guards down around their daughters, share their feelings and wishes, admit their weaknesses and worries a bit more than they would around rivalrous sons, especially in a very traditional, patriarchal society like Iraq.

Maybe she tells us about her broken family background right at the start, and drops scenes of older men hugging her and calling her their daughter throughout the narrative, because she knows that this – above and beyond all the day-to-day admin and bureaucracy and setting up meetings and getting former enemies to talk – was her secret superpower.

Factual learnings

Lack of native politicians

America was always going to struggle to find politicians and administrators to step into the vacuum they created by ousting Saddam and banning the Ba’ath Party. Most of Iraq’s educated middle class had long since fled the country and had no wish to return. Or Saddam had killed them. He took great care to wipe out potential leaders who rose to prominent in any of the country’s many ethnic or religious minorities or among his own minority Sunni community (p.49).

Debaathification

Sky repeats the account of Ricks and every other reporter, that Paul Bremer’s rash decision to ban all members of the Baath Party from holding any official position ever again in effect decapitated Iraqi government at every level, made it very difficult indeed to find new people with authority or experience to run anything, and turned hundreds of thousands of clever, educated people against the occupiers.

The Kurdish return

Sky arrives in Kirkuk to find the Arabs very pissed off indeed at what they saw as the Kurdish takeover of every level of the administration. Many Sunni Arab families had received cash incentives from Saddam to settle in the north under his policy designed to water down the Kurdish majority (10,000 dinars, p.350). These were referred to as ‘new Arabs’. But now they found the police run by Kurds, local councils run by Kurds, Kurds who had left decades previously being offered incentives to return etc. So many of the new Arabs were looking to allies across the border in Syria to help them. Arab resentment of the Kurds is the persistent theme of the first 100-plus pages of the book, covering her time in Kirkuk, and carrying through to the very last pages, where she revisits a resurgent Kurdish region in 2014.

The sectarianism of Nouri al-Maliki

Sunni leaders were convinced that Nouri al-Maliki’s government was not only dominated by Shias (after all, Iraq as a whole has a Shia majority) but included Shia figures who had spent their exile from Saddam in Iran and were thought to be actively working for Iran. Not only that, but there was evidence al-Maliki protected the firebrand Shia cleric Muqtada al-Sadr, figurehead of the murderous Jaysh al-Mahdi or Mahdi Army or Badr Corps. (On page 253 she describes al-Sadr as ‘rash and irascible’, on the next page refers to his many psychological problems.) If the book has one thread it’s the growing authoritarianism and unpopularity of Maliki which goes hand in hand with the Obama administration’s bad decision to give him their full backing.

The extremists overplay their hands

This explains why many in the Sunni community not only joined the insurgency against the American occupying forces, but also tacitly or actively supported al Qaeda in Iraq when they began recruiting and operating in Sunni areas. However, during 2006 into 2007 al Qaeda overplayed its hand and began killing Sunni leaders who opposed them. When, as part of the so-called surge, US forces made it clear they would amnesty Sunni insurgents who had been fighting them, and even set up a scheme to pay them to join local ‘citizen defence forces’, many Sunni fighters decided they preferred this option and turned on al Qaeda who, as a result, escalated their atrocities, which in turn brought more fence-sitting Sunnis into the process of Reconciliation.

Something similar happened on the Shia side. Sky reports being surprised when al-Sadr announced a ceasefire of his forces against the US and Iraqi Army but it was at least in part because many on his own Shia side had become sick of the violence the Shia militias brought and the apparently endless round of  Shia attacks and reprisals either by US forces or Sunni insurgents. Sky describes the process with characteristic brevity i.e. in not enough detail, on page 238.

The surge

Other factors were at work too, such as 1) the huge shift in attitude among the US Army to the new mode of counterinsurgency, as described in such detail by Thomas E. Ricks, by the change in policy to break up America’s supercamps and set up small operating outposts embedded within towns and cities and communities. Also 2) the fact that the US government finally saw sense, realised they didn’t have enough boots on the ground, and allowed an additional 20,000 soldiers to be sent to Iraq.

British embarrassment

On page 232 she describes the British Chief of the Defence Staff, Sir Jock Stirrup, in a meeting with General Odierno, and visibly embarrassed that the British more or less gave up in Iraq while the Americans persisted and, despite their ongoing losses, were able to learn and change their tactics. (Read Frank Ledwidge’s book ‘Losing Small Wars: British Military Failure in the 9/11 Wars for a searing indictment of the British failure in Iraq.)

Terrible Iraqi politicians

Maybe so many of these countries are doomed because their leaders are blinkered and inept; their political class is irredeemably useless, incompetent and corrupt. This isn’t my view, it’s what many Iraqis say. Sky’s friend Abu Mohamed marvels at the way General Petraeus walked with them on a visit through the streets of a town named Jihad, not wearing body armour, talking to children, taking Iraqi dinars from his own pockets to pay for things in the market. Very clever, very savvy public relations, all of which leads a doleful Mohamed to conclude:

‘We don’t have leaders like that in Iraq.’ (p.250)

Other Iraqis make the same point. Abdul-Rahman Mustafa, former governor of Kirkuk, says:

‘Despite all the resources nothing gets done. Iraq is still going backwards. It is hard to see how the country will stay unified with such politicians in power. Iraq has good people but bad politicians.’ (p.354)

If your political class thinks only in terms of power grabs for themselves and their faction, your national politics will remain fractious. If, as soon as anyone gets power, they set about securing it for themselves, their family and clan, going to the extent of threatening and sometimes murdering rivals, then the only was a war of all-against-all can be brought to an end is by a very strong man, by authoritarian rule, by dictatorship. Which is what keeps happening again and again in Arab countries.

Iraqi politicians the problem not the solution

The American government kept hoping that once the level of violence had been brought down to an acceptable level, it would create the ‘political space’ in which Iraqi politicians could agree national plans of reconciliation and reconstruction. What the Americans were slow to grasp was that all the politicians put themselves and their tribes first and national Iraqi interest a long way second. In fact, many of the politicians were behind the violence the Americans were trying to control. They were using it to rally their own ethnic or religious communities behind them, to create followers and voting blocs to keep themselves in power. Rather as the nationalist leaders in Yugoslavia rallied their own communities and demonised other ethnicities, in order to remain in power (p.257).

Hollywood thinking

Mind you, the Americans have plenty of blind spots of their own. Sky puts into words something I noticed in Michael Ignatieff and Anthony Loyd’s accounts of former Yugoslavia and Ricks’s of Iraq which is that senior American politicians and military leaders have an astonishingly simplistic, black-and-white view of the world. They think in terms of the Good Guys and the Bad Guys, as if life was a Western, or a Hollywood movie. Bush and Cheney and Rumsfeld-level leaders are quoted talking about getting ‘the bad guys’ and helping ‘the good guys’. This incredibly naive way of thinking explains why it took the Americans at least 4 years to understand the polyphonic, multi-stranded political, ethnic and religious situation in post-Saddam Iraq, which was not only complex in itself, but continually shifting (p.230). Where are the good guys, they kept asking? But what if there aren’t any good guys?

This explains something else which is the mistaken belief that if you take out the top ‘bad guy’ you solve the problem. This betrays a complete failure to grasp that societies are complex entities made out of multiple tribes and ethnicities and religious groupings, regions and classes. The Americans were hampered by this simplistic Hollywood thinking right from the start when they thought all they had to do was overthrow the bad guy, Saddam Hussein, and Iraq would promptly turn into a shiny modern democracy like France or Germany. World class idiocy. Breath-taking stupidity and ignorance.

The same magical thinking was revealed in their over-excitement at the assassination of Osama bin-Laden, the same naive belief that if you take out the so-called leader of ‘the bad guys’ then everything will be alright. Whereas, of course a) by 2011 (the year he was assassinated), bin Laden had become irrelevant to the situation in both Iraq and the wider Middle East, which remained as fractious, unstable and violent as ever and b) al Qaeda has gone from strength to strength after his death, extending its reach far across North Africa.

Fear

Fundamentally, what drives the desperation of so many of the politicians in these countries to stay in power at absolutely any cost, is fear of what will happen to them and their people once they lose power. Arrest, exile, prison, execution is the all-too-common fate of political leaders in developing countries once they leave office. In countries like this you don’t cling on to power to serve; you cling on to power to protect yourself and your clients and lackeys from what will happen once you lose it. Fear is the key to the entire political system. Thus:

Even before the last [American] soldier had departed [at the end of 2011] Maliki had launched a political coup aimed at crushing Iraqiya. (p.345)

And Maliki proceeds to arrest, intimidate, threaten or drive into exile most of his political opponents (detailed list on page 360). Abdul-Rahman Mustafa again:

‘[The Americans] should not have tried to transplant Western democracy to Iraq. It is not possible. Iraq is not a democracy. Change takes time. There are no democrats in Iraq.’ (p.358)

Betrayal by Obama and Biden

The most surprising thing about the book is its finale. Sky comes down heavily against President Barack Obama and his Vice-President Joe Biden. Parliamentary elections were held in Iraq on 7 March 2010 to decide the 325 members of the Council of Representatives who would elect the prime minister and president. However, the elections didn’t show a clear winner and so negotiations for those posts proved fraught with tension and delay. A final decision wasn’t taken till November of the same year – after eight months of divisive, sectarian bickering and intimidation.

Sky’s claim is that Obama’s regime, its ambassador and envoys, proved inept at managing the situation. They seemed unaware of Iran’s growing influence in the country, and sitting Prime Minister Nouri Al-Maliki’s tendency throughout the year to become more sectarianly Shia, more prone to Iranian influence, and more authoritarian. Sky meets opposition politicians who are scared that they will be arrested, even tortured by Maliki’s security services.

And yet it was this creepy figure, Maliki, who the Americans now threw their weight behind. Obama had been elected president in November 2008, took office in January 2009, and ratified the deal signed by George W. Bush to withdraw all US troops by the end of 2011. As the Iraqi politicians dragged out the backroom wheeling and dealing about the next Prime Minister for most of 2010 Obama became impatient. He was facing mid-term elections for Congress in November and wanted a foreign policy win.

Thus it was expedient, it was the simplest thing, just to confirm Maliki in the post of Prime Minister which he already held. Thus it was that the US administration averted its gaze from Maliki’s worrying tendencies, including the embarrassing fact that Maliki was Iran’s favourite candidate to continue as Prime Minister, given that the leaders of the other parties were Sunnis.

And so it was that during Joe Biden’s flying visit to Iraq in November 2010, Sky is in the room, and at the table, and makes several attempts to get Biden to change the administration’s approach. She then accompanies him to a meeting with senior members of the Iraqiya party, a secular and diverse grouping more appropriate than Maliki’s State of Law Party. by her account Sleepy Joe Biden was already gaga, repeating an utterly inappropriate anecdote about his Irish grandfather who grew up hating the British and then applying it to the attending notables, as if it somehow shed light on the sectarian problems of Iraq. After Biden finally tottered out some of the Iraqiya Party asked Sky what he’d been on about.

Biden was a nice man but he simply had the wrong instincts on Iraq. If only Obama had paid attention to Iraq. He, more than anyone, would understand the complexity of identities and how people can change. But his only interest in Iraq was in ending the war.

I felt sad, angry and very afraid for Iraq’s future. Washington had reneged on the promises it had made to Iraqis to protect the political process and it had betrayed the very principles the US military believed it was fighting to uphold. (p.338)

Summary

As a personal memoir of a unique experience, The Unravelling is possibly, maybe, an acceptable read. But if you want to understand how the war came about, why it went so badly wrong, and how the Americans struggled to fix a terrible situation, forget it. Read Fiasco and The Gamble. Read Frank Ledwidge and Jack Fairweather.

The looting

Concrete example of Sky’s inadequate treatment: on page 98 Sky deals, in one sentence, with the central fact that the occupying forces left a security and policing vacuum right at the start, immediately after the Iraqi army had surrendered, and that the CPA was never able to recover from that initial loss of initiative and control. One sentence! Ricks devotes half his book to this fact, explaining why it came about, how it manifested itself in the first days and weeks, what the full political, military and social consequences were, returning to them again and again to give you an ever-deepening understanding of this catastrophic failure. But in Sky, just one sentence.

Abu Ghraib

Similarly, Sky records in her characteristic schoolgirl diary way, a visit with other CPA staff to Abu Ghraib prison after the photos were leaked and the scandal broke. Here is her analysis in its entirety:

At Abu Ghraib I saw evidence of the worst side of human nature. With weak supervision in the jail, a number of American soldiers had used their power to create a perverse world, breaking the monotony of their days with sadistic acts on detainees under their control. It was truly sickening. Abu Ghraib was one of those places that exuded evil. (p.94)

This is a wholly inadequate analysis, in fact no analysis at all, it’s just a comment by a tourist. By contrast, Ricks gives a detailed explanation of the complex causes of the scandal, the two most notable ones being: 1) the huge numbers of ‘insurgents’ some American forces were rounding up and indiscriminately sending to prison, instead  of questioning, assessing and probably releasing most of them in their own provinces; and 2) Donald Rumsfeld’s obsession with keeping the number of US forces cut to the bare minimum and his express refusal to send out enough US military police properly trained in running prisons. In their absence, inexperienced managers and completely untrained junior soldiers were lumbered with  a job they didn’t know how to do, with the disastrous outcome the whole world got to see.

Ricks’s account is thorough, well researched, fascinating in its own right, and an illuminating insight into the importance of properly running prisons and interrogation facilities during a conflict. Sky – a one-page description of a tourist visit and a Daily Mail-level comment.

She was there. She worked with the key players. She got to know the country and the situation. And yet her analysis repeatedly feels inadequate and superficial. Making lots of lovely friends and repeatedly bursting into tears is sweet but no replacement for analysis.


Credit

The Unravelling: High Hopes and Missed Opportunities in Iraq by Emma Sky was published by Atlantic Books in 2015. References are to the 2016 paperback edition.

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Occupational Hazards: My Time Governing in Iraq by Rory Stewart (2007)

‘If you put my cousin on the council, I will slit his throat.’
(Typical threat from an Iraqi sheikh, Occupational Hazards, page 231)

Rory Stewart

Stewart (born 1973) is posh. He comes from a family of Scottish landed gentry. Like lots of poshos born into a family which helped administer the last shreds of empire, Stewart was born abroad, in Hong Kong in his case, and then brought up in Malaysia. He, of course, was sent back to the old country to be educated at Eton and Oxford. After a brief spell in a posh regiment in the British Army (the Black Watch) he went on to work in the Diplomatic Service. Absolutely stock, standard posh-boy career. Then, in the footsteps of the posh travellers of the 1920s and 30s (Wilfred Thesiger et al), he left the Diplomatic Service to undertake a two-year walk across Afghanistan, Iran, Pakistan, India and Nepal, and then, of course, wrote a best-selling book about the experience, ‘The Places in Between’ (p.8).

Post-war Iraq

Stewart’s posh boy qualifications, his experience in the Foreign Office, his (supposed) knowledge of Arab and Muslim culture (he’s very candid about his shortcomings in speaking or understanding Arabic, as he is about everything else) meant that when the Coalition Provisional Authority (the provisional Western power set up in Iraq after the American invasion of March 2003) put out feelers to the British Foreign Office for volunteers to work as ‘governorate co-ordinators’ in the southern provinces of Iraq (which had been assigned to the British to manage) Stewart was a prime candidate.

In fact, surprisingly, he received no response to his initial application and so, with the confidence borne of his Eton-Oxford-Foreign Office pedigree, he flew to Jordan, took a taxi to Baghdad and lobbied for the job on the spot. He was vouched for by the Director of Operations and Infrastructure at the CPA, Andy Bearpark and was duly appointed (p.73).

Stewart in Iraq timeline

Thus it was that on 28 September 2003 Stewart found himself on a flight from Baghdad down to Amara, capital of Maysan Province in southern Iraq (p.10). Here he worked as ‘governorate co-ordinator’ running a team of ten or so civil affairs officers, alongside the British Army’s (completely separate) military operations for the next 6 months.

Map of Iraq’s provinces, by Orthuberra and published under Creative Commons attribution Attribution-Share Alike 3.0

In November 2003 the American diplomat Molly Phee arrived, assuming the position of Governorate Co-ordinator and Rory switched to become her deputy (p.188). A few days later, Paul Bremer announced the CPA would hand over authority to a provisional Iraqi government on 30 June 2004. In the same month an opinion poll revealed that two-thirds of Iraqis described the allies as ‘an occupying force’ (p.220).

In January 2004 the security situation suddenly deteriorated and the compound at Amara started coming under attack (p.288).

In March 2004 Stewart was moved from Maysan to its western neighbour, Dhi Qar, and its capital Nasiriyah, where he served as senior advisor to the civil affairs team. There were mounting attacks on occupation garrisons throughout Iraq.

In April 2004 the Shiite cleric, politician and militia leader Muqtada al-Sadr unleashed his supporters’ insurgency against the occupying forces, leading to attacks against Coalition offices throughout Iraq, and against Stewart’s compound in Nasiriyah. The very fierce fighting would continue until al-Sadr declared a ceasefire in September 2004.

Meanwhile, in June 2004, the Coalition Authority handed all its powers over to the Iraqi Provisional government, and Stewart’s job came to an end.

He revisited Iraq a couple of times, later in 2004 and in 2005, but his day-to-day involvement at that point came to an end.

A memoir not a history

I bought this paperback when it came out in 2007. I remember being disappointed. Now I realise this was because I was expecting a historical overview, a comprehensive chronological account of the coalition invasion of Iraq and its aftermath, and Stewart’s book is definitely not that. For that kind of objective, historical and analytical overview, I recommend Jack Fairweather’s thorough and authoritative account, A War of Choice: Honour, Hubris and Sacrifice: The British in Iraq (2012).

I now realise I was disappointed by Stewart’s account because it is something else entirely: it is a highly personal memoir of the day-to-day challenges he faced, first in Maysan and then in Dhi Qar, and doesn’t even attempt to be an overall survey.

Instead, it is much more like a diary account (it’s not quite a diary because, as he tells us, he didn’t have time to keep a day-by-day record) of where he went and who he saw, and the issues and challenges he had to address, of the countless conversations and arguments with innumerable Iraqi officials, political leaders, sheikhs and clerics, interspersed with conversations with senior officers in the British Army in both provinces, and occasional meetings with masters in the CPA up in Baghdad. Above all, it is an odyssey through the amazingly convoluted networks of tribes and parties and gangs and warlords and militias which made up the immensely complicated tapestry of political life in his province.

And it is very deliberately provincial in focus. Occasionally he mentions politicking up in Baghdad or outbreaks of violence in the rest of the country, but only the briefest of mentions because his focus is overwhelmingly on the multiple parties and sects and forces at work in his province that he has to deal with.

This explains several things about the book:

1. At 434 pages, it is surprisingly long. But as you get into it you realise this is because it takes a long time to get to know all the many, many tribal and political leaders in Maysan. Stewart’s understanding only inches forward via long conversations, arguments, meetings, pledges, threats and unexpected revelations. In all these ways his book is more like a novel than a history: it’s not to be read for the facts; it’s to be read so as to allow the behaviours, conversations, promises, threats and actions of the various factions to slowly build up a complex, multi-layered portrait.

2. It also explains why, right at the start of the book, there’s a 4-page list of dramatis personae i.e. key figures from the narrative, just as in a classic nineteenth century Russian novel. Initially I thought I could skip these, but slowly realised that reading the book only makes sense if you maintain a good grasp of who’s who and, more to the point, who is conspiring against who, rubbishing them behind their backs, and why. Or at least, why Stewart thinks they’re doing so.

At which point I realised something quite important: that there are more Iraqi, Arab and Muslim voices in this than any other book I’ve read about Iraq or Afghanistan.

The clash of cultures

This point brings us to one of the two central themes of the book which is the immense, unbridgeable cultural gulf between this highly educated, objective and dispassionate civil servant, and the maze of Iraqi politicians he struggles to understand and manage. Over the book’s 430 pages he (and we the readers) obviously gain insight into people’s characters and motivations; but it’s delusive. Tribal leaders still abruptly reverse their positions, or pull out of agreements, for no motive that Stewart can fathom. One minute he’s enjoying a cup of tea in his pokey office in the CPA compound in Amara with a Shia cleric who promises to work with Stewart’s plans to set up a provincial council. A week later the same person is leading an angry mob on the same compound, inciting them to riot, chanting ‘Death to the Coalition’ and publishing a leaflet calling for all devout Muslims to assassinate CPA officials like Stewart (p.228). It is an impassable gulf:

Even in the stable context of our office, with good translators, it was often difficult for us to understand Iraqi guests and for them to understand us…the truth was that the most basic concepts like, ‘civil society’ or ‘sharia law’, meant very different things to each of us. (p.242)

The more he understands, the more he realises he’ll never understand. Not least because quite a few of the local players themselves don’t fully understand what’s going on. In a Hobbesian world where everyone’s hand is against everyone else’s, nobody can be sure of any of their pacts or alliances or deals.

‘These people talk randomly,’ said the governor in a tense, tired, quiet voice. ‘Even among themselves they agree about nothing. It is impossible even to get a consistent demand from them.’ (p.294)

This explains something else absolutely central which is that, when push comes to shove, if you’re in doubt about who was your ally and who was conspiring to have you assassinated, the One Thing that was guaranteed to win you brownie points with almost all the other Iraqi parties, was declaring ‘Death to the West! Death to the Coalition!’

Stewart doesn’t say it in so many words, but it emerges naturally from his countless stories of promises broken and double crosses, that opposition to the Coalition, to the occupying forces, and the West in general, was so vehement because it was, at bottom, the only policy on which almost all the squabbling Iraqi parties could unite on.

Being political illiterates, having absolutely no concept whatsoever of democratic processes or conventions, ‘Death to the West’ was the one and only policy that could (for a while) unite parties, tribes and interest groups who were, otherwise, at each other’s throats (for example, at the first meeting of the council Stewart has himself selected, p.277).

Security, security, security

All of which is related to the other, deeper, central message of the book which comes over loud and clear. Young Rory arrived with the naive belief that people are basically decent; that, if given space, law and order emerges naturally from the culture of a society; and so he initially allowed himself to be dazzled by the enormous number of economic and social development projects being worked up by the ten-person civil society team which he found in Maysan before him.

Only slowly and brutally, does he realise that the locals don’t give a monkeys about educational programmes on human rights, the free market, feminism, federalism and constitutional reform (p.82) or ‘gender-awareness workshops’ (p.83).

What they wanted was security security security. What they wanted was law and order. What they wanted was to be able to walk down the street at night (or even during the day) without being held up, mugged, sexually assaulted, kidnapped and held to ransom, or tortured and murdered.

And that, as it turned out – the provision of basic security, elementary standards of law and order – was something the occupying forces turned out to be completely incapable of providing. And Stewart’s account is a priceless testimony as to why. You might as well try to get a box of frogs to put on a military tattoo as get the endlessly bickering Arabs who Stewart profiles to agree about anything.

The rivals

Amid the blizzard of other projects and responsibilities, the central consuming project of the first, Maysan, part of the narrative, is Stewart’s attempts to appoint a provisional council which can then meet and agree a) a new provincial governor and b) a new chief of police.

The police are poorly trained, cowardly and corrupt (p.83). For example, tribal leader Abu Rashid drafted hundreds of his militia followers into the police, some of them as young as 12. The day before a meeting with Rashid Stewart hears that, when Abu Rashid’s mother had been told to wait when she went to hospital, some of these boys had drawn their weapons and threatened to shoot the doctors unless she was treated immediately (p.87). What can you do with a society split into such fiercely partisan warlord groups, and where that kind of instant resort to extreme violence is normal?

Pretty much all the sheikhs and party leaders he has to deal with are criminals. When Stewart appoints Abu Rashid chief of police it is in the knowledge that Rashid’s cousins run the major smuggling operation in the area. Stewart’s thinking is it’s better to have the big gangsters inside the organisation and let power slowly educate them, than simply making them eternal foes.

Most of the leaders he deals with are involved in some kind of criminal activity, such as smuggling drugs or diesel. Most have threatened to assassinate each other and some are responsible for murders, while most had had some member of their family killed over crime or tribal vendettas. Most of them run extortion and blackmail rackets. All the contractors he allots CPA funds to for ‘development’ projects, skim some or most of the money into their personal accounts, with sometimes hilarious results.

‘There were 54 political parties, 20 substantial tribes, and a dozen leading political figures in the province’ (p.169). Broadly speaking there are:

  • tribal sheiks: there are two massive tribes in the province but innumerable sub-tribes and smaller tribes all jostling for power, slow to forgive ancient feuds (‘Most urban Iraqis perceived the sheikhs as illiterate, embarrassing, criminal, powerless anachronisms,’ p.231)
  • some of these sheikhs had forebears who had proudly fought against the British occupier and coloniser in the 1920s and so, even if they’d wanted to be co-operative, family tradition and pride insisted that they be seen to be as unco-operative and obstructive as possible
  • there are the various candidates and parties which are all fronts for the self-styled Prince of the Marshes, a charming, educated and thoroughly untrustworthy figure, who leads a gang of semi-literate criminals who, immediately after Saddam’s fall, comprehensively looted Amara
  • clerics, all Shia, but with a surprising number of fierce rivals; incongruously to British readers, many of these religious leaders have their own militias which regularly kidnap or assassinate opponents
  • Iran-backed parties: during Saddam’s long tyranny (1968 to 2003) tens of thousands of political and religious leaders fled abroad; only a handful of them were ‘secular’ (or what passes for secular in a Muslim country); most of them were various flavours of Shia and fled east to Shia Iran; here they were kept on the Iranian government payroll awaiting the day when Saddam (a Sunni) was overthrown; so Stewart had not only to deal with Shia clerics who remained in the country, but with a whole cohort who had returned from Iran and were all, to some extent or other, in hock to Iran and carrying out pro-Iran policies; thus, the Supreme Council for the Islamic Revolution in Iraq, which was funded by Iran and represented Iran’s interests (p.65), lobbying for wilayat-e-faqih, meaning government of the jurists i.e. a Shia theocracy identical to Iran’s
  • then there were the Sadrists, followers of Shia cleric, Muqtada al-Sadr, who shouted the same kind of anti-Coalition slogans from their pulpits as the returners-from-exile but with one key difference: Muqtada had never gone into exile and was a fierce Iraqi nationalist i.e. opposed the Iran-backed parties as violently as they opposed the Coalition; his militia calls itself ‘the Army of the Redeeming Imam’ (p.86); Muqtada ‘created his own armed militia, assassinated clerical rivals, declared an alternative government and called for the immediate departure of the infidel Coalition’, p.253; Stewart makes the point that all the Shia groups seem to be represented by younger and younger men who reject the moderation of their elders; in other words, political Islam was becoming more unstable (p.230)
  • there weren’t many Sunnis in Maysan (the further south in Iraq you go, the more Shia it becomes) but by and large the Sunni were more moderate and better educated than the Shia, who they regarded as uneducated, backward heretics (p.46)
  • last and least, quavering in the shadow of all these fierce and violent factions, were the handful of genuinely secular, middle class, liberal democratically minded Iraqis and the handful of ‘feminists’; none of these stood a hope in hell of being elected to anything but Stewart and his boss, Molly Phee, appointed some to their provincial council because it’s what the CPA in Baghdad, and all the Western politicians bankrolling the whole thing, had told their populations we were doing in Iraq – building a modern democratic state which respects the human rights of all blah blah blah

The point is that nobody in Iraq trusts anybody else; they are all prepared to believe the absolute worst of all the other tribes, clans, groups, militias, police forces and so on; and, knowing no other way of calmly settling disputes, and also conceiving of power as a zero sum game where you are either in total control or nothing, they routinely try to kidnap or assassinate each other.

A society where nobody believes in anybody else’s good intentions, yes, it probably does require a strong, authoritarian ruler to quash all these rival sources of authority and, above all, of violence. Only a really strong, violent man with a strong, violent security apparatus can quell all the other violent rivalrous groups into submission. Stewart starts off believing this is anti-Arab propaganda, but runs into trouble when Arab after Arab tells him it is true.

‘We Iraqis, we admire strong men. We have tough heads. You must be strong.’ (His first Iraqi interpreter, page 32)

How many Iraqis are you going to ignore when they tell you point blank that their society just won’t function unless it is governed with a fist of steel? It may be racist for us to make such sweeping statements, but isn’t it just as racist to ignore an Arab’s description of their own society because we supposedly know better than they do?

Thus various tribal and religious and political leaders tell him again and again that only an extremely strong, dictatorial authority can enforce security in Iraq (pages 59, 81, 82). When he and Molly finally agree settle on the members of the provisional council they’ve nominated, Stewart gives a characteristically droll summary of them:

I knew these people well. Most had killed others; all had lost close relatives. Some wanted a state modelled on seventh-century Arabia, some wanted something that resembled even older, pre-Islamic tribal systems. Some were funded by the Iranian secret service; others old oil on the black market, ran protection rackets, looted government property, and smuggled drugs. Most were linked to construction companies which made immense profits by cheating us. Two were first cousins and six were from the same tribe; some had tried to assassinate each other. This dubious gathering included and balanced, however, all the most powerful political factions in the province and I believed that if anyone could secure the province, they could. (p.268)

And at their very first meeting the Sadrist member announced that the council was illegal, poisoned by the presence of the Coalition and forbade anyone from taking their oaths. Lolz, as my kids would say.

Or when, after the first guy they appointed as chief of police is assassinated, after much heart-searching Stewart and Molly appoint the Prince of the Marshes’ brother, Riyadh Mahood Hatab on the basis that he is a competent administrator with 20 years experience in the civil service, the respect of the ministry directors, the power of his brother’s militia behind him and contacts in Baghdad. Yes, he’ll do. And then the comic horror with which Molly and Rory listen as the newly installed chief of police outlines his programme: he wants to take full control of the police, set up a secret intelligence service, ban demonstrations, arrest a journalist who had insulted him and expel his Sadrist opponents from the council (p.275).

This is how everyone they try to negotiate thinks about power; it is a zero sum game and, if they are given a position of power, they must immediately move to assume complete control as quickly as possible in order to forestall the inevitable attempts and assassinations and coups which all their rivals will mount against them. Given half a chance, everyone turns into Saddam. No-one turns into the kind of mild liberal democrat the CPA in Baghdad, and their masters in Washington and London, fantasised about.

Violent rhetoric

In the build-up to the Iraq war Saddam Hussein promised the Mother of all Battles but as soon as the invasion started most of his soldiers ran away (some didn’t; some stayed at their posts and fought very hard until obliterated by bombs from the air). I have read serious, sympathetic, Arab writers trying to explain that flowery and impassioned rhetoric is part of their culture. Alternatively, maybe they genuinely are as bloodthirsty and cut-throat as the characters in Stewart’s book suggest.

Stewart visits one of the many schools he’s helped refurbish with CPA money only to bump into the Prince of the Marshes who is ranting about the shoddy quality of the plasterwork, leading up to the blood-curdling threat:

‘Now I need to know the name of the contractor who did this work – tell me his name and I will rip out his tongue.’ (p.98)

Is this bombastic showing off, especially as he said it for the benefit of the school’s headmistress who was standing nearby? Even so, it’s hard to fit this kind of language into anything that might be said in a civilised society. Or was it meant literally? After all, there was always a low level current of mafia-style violence across the province and that was before the insurgency began, which itself degenerated into sectarian civil war, when thousands of people were kidnapped, had their eyes gouged out, their kneecaps drilled through and otherwise hurt in the most cruel and sadistic ways imaginable.

If it was rhetoric, it paved the way for real life atrocities. But more likely, the language just matched the actions.

Tribal fights were still very common – it was not rare for two or three men to be killed in a week in tribal disagreements. (p.143)

Stewart helps a sheikh of the Suwaad tribe who graciously invites him for lunch. Next day the sheikh’s house is firebombed. At an art exhibition he is introduced to Dr Kifiyah, a confident woman who is working for an aid organisation educating women (p.175). He supervises the election of a mayor for the town of Ali Al Sharj. Three days later, the mayor is ambushed and killed (p.226).

The central event of the first section, set in Maysan, is the assassination of the chief of police who Stewart and the CPA had put all their hopes on, which unleashes a kidnapping, and various forms of sectarian violence. The point is that everyone has so many enemies that they’re not at all sure who carried out the assassination.

Under siege

The first 300 pages chronicle Stewart’s time in Maysan. Around page 300 he leaves that post and is driven across the border into Dhi Qar province and on to the Coalition’s base in the provincial capital, Nasiriyah. He discovers it is a far bigger, more populous place than Maysan. He discovers that the team here held elections to appoint a provincial council and they were judged a success, shedding light on his decision to appoint a council, which led to all the problems which made up most of the text about Maysan.

The next most important thing he discovers is the military presence here is Italian and, living down to their hard-won reputation, they are useless. Never on time, never serious or committed, they rarely lose an opportunity to run away from a fight. To be fair this was because, a few months earlier, in November 2003, a huge truck bomb had detonated at the Italian headquarters in Nassiriya, killing 17 Italians. At which point Italian Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi ordered his 2,300-strong contingent not to take any risks. Any more casualties and negative public opinion would force him to withdraw from the Coalition. There were strong political and operational reasons for the Italians’ tardiness and unreliability.

All of which is important because Stewart is in Nassiriya when the dual insurgencies, of Sunnis in Fallujah and Sadrist Shia militias across the entire south, kick off in April, and the CPA compound in Nassiriya comes under sustained attack. It’s a really serious situation, with the compound besieged, running low on water, two guards at the gate are seriously injured, scores of mortars and RPGs attack the compound continuously, the entire civilian staff have to take cover.

Eventually he manages to get them extracted from the besieged base in a convoy of armoured patrol vehicles, only for them to trundle straight into an ambush and be bombarded with machine guns and RPGs and, having remained behind in the base, he has an agonising half an hour wondering if he’s just sent his entire team to a violent death, before getting a phone call to confirm that they had all arrived safe at the allied base at the airport outside of town.

Even here there’s Waughesque comedy, as the incompetent driver of the first APV unexpectedly throws it into reverse, nearly running over Stewart and a colleague who were remaining behind. When his infuriated commander leans down to cuff the harassed driver round the ear, he then accelerates into a pile of barbed wire which promptly tangle up the wheels and prevent it going any further, till the wire is slowly painfully untangled.

There’s page after page detailing the amazing ineffectiveness and cowardliness of the Italians, and it’s not just Stewart who is gobsmacked. A team of British and American security contractors from Control Risk Group (CRG) remain in the base with him and cannot believe how useless the Italians are (pages 390 to 393). Eventually after 3 days of siege a Coalition Spectre plane uses its night sights to locate the mortar bombers and pick them off one by one, killing or wounding the entire insurgent group. Next day the city is back to its normal bustling self. Stewart is full of praise for the consultants (aka mercenaries) who manned the machine gun posts and prevented the Sadrists storming over the walls and massacring Stewart and the garrison.

But Baghdad orders the compound to be evacuated. Obviously, the minute they’ve left the looters move in and strip the place of any moveable values, right down to the wiring, before gutting and burning it.

Once safely ensconced in the Italians’ main base at Tallil Stewart comes to like them. Wherever they go, they build pizza ovens and their food is extraordinary. In fact, once you stop thinking about the Italian Army as soldiers, but actually as great chefs in fancy uniforms, what’s not to love about them?

The CPA

In case I’m accused of being anti-Arab, Stewart also has a chapter devoted to a visit to the Coalition Provincial Authority in Baghdad which overflows with details of the inane, out of touch, ludicrous, over-ambitions of inexperienced Yanks who worked all the hours that God sent and yet somehow presided over a complete shambles (pages 105 to 121). I particularly liked the deliberately comic passage where he describes going to one of the evening discos in the Green Zone and being introduced to two men who were both under the impression they had been appointed acting Interior Minister. A little later he meets two men who both think they are the Media Commissioner (p.112). Chaos.

More seriously, Stewart describes talking at different times to two soldiers, one American, one British, who both try to get him to admit that the whole war and occupation was to do with taking Iraqi oil. If even the troops on our own side believe this myth, Stewart reflects, what hope of stopping most of the Iraqi population from believing it, too (p.108). After all, Iraq is sitting on the second biggest oil reserves in the world and yet throughout the Coalition’s rule, ordinary Iraqis had to form long lines at petrol stations. Why else could that be except that the West was stealing their oil? The real explanation, that Saddam’s extraction and refining industry was on its last legs and insurgents kept blowing up pipelines and facilities, was believed by no-one (p.152).

Talk of blowing up stuff raises the point that the Iraqis devoted an extraordinary amount of energy not just to killing each other, but to destroying the infrastructure of their own country (pages 205 to 206). The Great Looting in the days after the allied victory wasn’t an anomaly but a revelation of the true character of the Iraqis, a nation of looters and thieves.

Long after those days of chaos the looting continues. Everything not tied down is stolen. Factories are looted, warehouses are looted. In January, rioters storm the governor’s compound and loot every single piece of moveable furniture or equipment, even the filing cabinets (pages 289 to 297).

Several times Stewart mentions the practice of Iraqi criminal gangs who blow up power pylons so they can strip the copper from the coil, melt it down and sell it on the black market. The criminal gangs get tens of thousands of dollars from the venture but it costs the Americans tens of millions to rebuild series of pylons and rewire them. Obviously, most of the rest of the population suffers even worse power shortages than they already did.

As soon as he, the Italian garrison and the mercenaries withdraw from the CPA compound in Nasiriyah, it is comprehensively looted and trashed.

In a sentimental mode he describes the huge mudhif, a building built entirely out of marsh reeds using ancient skills of local builders, which had been constructed in such a way as to let light through a latticework of openings. It is ornate and beautiful as a cathedral. The Sadrists burn it to the ground.

When you have a people so absolutely determined to loot and vandalise their own country, what can you do? Leave them to get on with it.

On 28 June the CPA formally handed over authority to local council and governors in Iraq’s 34 provinces. The ones Stewart was involved in immediately plunge into chaos and violence. The Prince of the Marshes promptly allies with the Sadrists against the Iranian-backed parties. He shoots the chief of police of Majar dead. The remaining Coalition compounds such as the one where Stewart spent his first 6 months, in Amara, are now under continual, ferocious attack.

Church and state

It’s my view that it took hundreds of years for us in Britain to break the power of religion over the state. Three hundred years ago it took a civil war and a revolution to loosen the grip of the church over the nation’s political life. During the long Victorian century and well into the twentieth, the Christian denominations still exercised a very negative, anti-progressive influence, especially on what is loosely called the nation’s morals (anti-sex, anti-abortion, anti-free speech, anti-gay). It was a long, hard battle to overthrow religious influence on our national life.

Here, in this book, are countless examples of Muslim clerics insisting that their religion, their religious values, their ancient forms of social organisation and their dark age forms of political process eclipse, trump and obviate the need for ‘modern, ‘western’ ideas like democracy or human rights or women’s rights. A cleric named Seyyed Faqr puts it with particular clarity:

‘What matters is not the law. What matters is God, children, possessions, lives. These things are more important than the law. Forget the law. God is above the law and I represent God.’ (p.222)

But what happens if two clerics claim to represent God, a Sadrist and an Iranian? And if you throw in a Sunni cleric? And one from this tribe and one from that tribe? And they all claim a direct line from God so that they can’t negotiate or compromise? Then you have a recipe for endless civil war, as in Libya, Sudan, the Yemen, Iraq and Syria.

Only when all sides agree to abide by a law which is above all of them, impersonal and objective, and agree to thrash out their disagreements via legal channels, can you have a civil society. This is the lesson the Coalition Provisional Authority should have been trying to teach the fractious Iraqis. A legal system to which everyone submits, an independent judiciary, and an impartial police force, these are the bedrock of a civilised states, not the flashy trappings of elections. Elections and the trappings of democracy are a subset of law and order, which trumps every other concern. (cf p.315)

Humorous stories

Anyway, so far this summary has failed to mention the single most important thing, not about the book’s subject and themes, but about it’s style and manner. For this is an extremely readable and enjoyable book. I thought I’d had enough of books about Iraq and took it down off my shelf one evening only because I was bored watching TV. To my surprise, the next time I looked up, I was on page 50. I was hooked.

Occupational Hazards is beautifully written and by far the easiest to read of all the books I’ve read about Iraq and Afghanistan. A large part of that is down to Stewart’s appealingly British irony and deadpan humour which you may or may not attribute to classic upper-class sang-froid and irony. He expects things to go wrong and is never upset when they do. Many of the accounts of his meetings, with tribal leaders or top army officers, or foreign civilians in non-governmental organisations (NGOs) end with a bathetic, ironic, darkly humorous punchline.

It helps that so many of the facts are themselves blackly, bleakly comical, in the style of Evelyn Waugh’s comic accounts of Africa, walking a fine line between horror and hilarity. The secret is in the very dry, clipped phrasing. Here he is reflecting on the rather ludicrous title the Prince of the Marshes had awarded himself:

In truth, of course, Iraq didn’t have princes any more, and it hardly had marshes. The last princes were murdered on the kitchen steps of the palace in 1958 and disembowelled and mutilated in the streets, where the mob used the Regent’s intestines as necklaces. (p.18)

This is the Waugh tone, the casual, ironic, drawling half-humorous description of shocking criminality or scandalous behaviour:

I had spent my first two weeks almost entirely in my office or in camp and I was eager to visit rural towns, which I had heard were bastions of corruption, inefficiency and political tension. (p.90)

On one of these rural rides Stewart stops at an isolated compound to chat with a genuine farmer, not some politico with an axe to grind:

As I left I asked him what I should be doing. ‘Don’t trust the police chief, he replied. ‘He is a gangster. Don’t trust anyone who lives south of Al Amara. They are thieves and bandits.’
‘But you live south of Al Amara,’ I protested.
‘Don’t trust me either,’ he said. He presented me with a live guinea fowl in parting as a gift. (p.96)

The guinea fowl clinches the comedy of the anecdote. Whether this encounter ever happened or took place as Stewart recounts it, who cares? It’s not as if it made the slightest difference to what actually happened in Iraq. It’s these throwaway details at the end of each anecdote or cadence which give it the true Waugh feel.

The Bazun sheikhdom was in dispute between the two main families, one of which had stolen all the heavy digging equipment from the Ministry of Municipalities and Public Works. (p.234)

And:

We drove past the main government building, which Nate had seen demolished by rockets: only a fragile facade of coloured tiles remained, and a sculpture commemorating the Iraqis’ 1920 uprising against the British. It depicted a British officer being shot in the back of the head. (p.303)

Of course horrible things happen. For example, quite a few of the Western civilians, administrators and soldiers Stewart meets on his first arrival end up dead, shot or blown up in suicide attacks. And then, in April, the four US contractors are lynched and their burned bodies hung from a bridge in Fallujah (p.342) which so infuriates President George W. Bush that he orders the US Army to storm the city to find their murderers and ‘bring them  to justice’ ho ho ho. In the same week Muqtada al-Sadr starts his Shia rebellion across the whole south of the country. Hundreds and then thousands died as a result of these parallel insurgencies, one by Sunnis (Fallujah), one by Shias (Muqtada’s).

Black comedy

An extended comic sequence is provided by the story of the kidnapping of a British hostage, Gary Teeley. The first part is all panic and concern among CPA officials and the military to establish who kidnapped him and why and how to get him back. In the event, some of the many tribal leaders Stewart has been having lengthy discussions with simply turn up at the gates of the compound and hand over the filthy and disorientated Brit, directly to Stewart, in person, expecting thanks.

Over the next few days various other tribal and religious factions, including the Sadrists, contact Stewart to claim the credit for releasing Teeley, even though it seems fairly certain that some of them were the ones who kidnapped him in the first place.

But that’s just the start. Stewart debriefs the shattered and disorientated hostage, who had been kept blindfolded for a week, then packs him into an ambulance to be taken to the nearby Italian hospital. Walking back through the compound he is accosted by an irate British woman who tells him she is a hostage negotiator who has been on high alert for 3 days, why didn’t he contact her? Because he didn’t know she existed. Why did he hand over Teeley to the Italians? Because he clearly needed to go to a hospital to be checked over. Yes, says the woman, but he should have been sent to the British hospital at Basra.

By now Stewart realises there is a propaganda battle going on between the British and Italian military, both wanting to be seen to be the hostage’s liberators, not least for the benefit of the Americans and the CPA in Baghdad. Thus the Italian commander sends an email round claiming the release was the result of the Italians working with their favourite tribal leader, Sheikh Talib of the Beni Rikaab tribe.

But it’s not finished yet. The released Teeley turns out to be selling his story to the papers, and – in the style of Evelyn Waugh’s comic novel of Fleet Street, Scoop – three different British newspapers print three completely conflicting accounts of his ordeal. The Daily Telegraph leads with a big photo of the Italian general shaking hands with Teeley as if the Italians negotiated his release. Then The Sun reported that Teeley had been released by Italian forces who used a helicopter to track a suspicious car to an apartment which they then stormed, discovering the captive bound by the legs. Then The Mail on Sunday led with the scoop that the Italian forces who had been credited with finding and releasing Teeley were in fact elite SAS officers wearing Italian military outfits!

Three different packs of lies, each more outrageously untrue than its predecessor.

The moral(s) of the story

1. Stewart’s book shows in more granular detail than any other account the sheer folly of expecting a backward, illiterate, tribal, sectarian society full of cut-throat, corrupt, criminal and hyper-violent tribal, religious and political leaders to become anything like a democratic society in the sense we understand it.

In Stewart’s account any Iraqi leader who gains even a modicum of power immediately moves to reinforce their position, arm their followers, and harass, arrest or assassinate any possible rivals. Saddam politics. This is what even the Shia Prime Minister, Nouri al-Malaki, did as soon as the Americans finally withdrew, in 2011. I love the fact that the very day after the last US forces withdrew, Maliki issued an arrest warrant for his own vice president, the Sunni Tariq al-Hashemi, who was forced to flee to Turkey and, convicted of terrorism, was swiftly sentenced to death in his absence. Saddam politics.

2. If there’s one message from all this, as from all the other books I’ve read about the British effort in Iraq and Afghanistan, it’s not to believe a word about the Britain’s foreign exploits, either a) given in press releases by the military but b) even more by the British newspapers, who will fall over themselves to invent any old lies to promote their respective agendas (The Sun: ‘Our Brave Boys Save The Day’; The Telegraph: ‘Secret SAS Mission’; The Guardian: ‘Shame of British Troops’ etc).

Lasting thought

As I closed the book and reflected on it for a few days, one thought rose above all the others, which is that there are more Iraqi, Arab and Muslim voices in this than any other book I’ve read about Iraq or Afghanistan. OK, not saying things the Coalition or the West or Iraqi apologists or themselves would be very pleased to read. But all the other books I’ve read focus on Americans and Brits and Westerners and the occupiers – Stewart’s book, alone, goes way out of its way to focus on the actual Iraqis he met and talked to and tried and failed to manage.

In fact, this ends up being the conclusion of the epilogue he added to the paperback edition of the book published in 2007. By that point the insurgency had become general and had evolved in many places into a sectarian civil war. Stewart criticises politicians, academics and journalists for dealing in fine words, abstract concepts and abstract statistics.

No one is offering a granular and patient account of the insurgency in all its evolving and surprising multiplicity. We prefer the universal and the theoretical: the historical analogy and the statistics. But politics is local, the catastrophe of Iraq is discovered best through individual interactions.

And it’s precisely a multitude of such ‘individual interactions’, bleakly disillusioning though most of them are, that this impressive, illuminating and drily humorous book offers, in abundance.


Credit

Occupational Hazards by Rory Stewart was published by Picador in 2006. References are to the revised 2007 Picador paperback edition.

New world disorder reviews

Losing Small Wars: British Military Failure in the 9/11 Wars by Frank Ledwidge (second edition, 2017)

‘You have the watches, but we have the time.’
(Taliban saying, possibly apocryphal, page 93)

Summary

This is a quite mind-blowing, jaw-dropping analysis of the incompetence, ignorance, narrow-mindedness, bad planning, profligacy, bureaucratic in-fighting, politicking, terrible leadership, lack of strategy, appalling mismanagement and ineptitude which characterised the British Army campaigns in Iraq (2003 to 2009) and Afghanistan (2004 to 2014). For the rest of my life, when I hear the words ‘British Army’ on the radio or telly or in movies, I’ll think of this devastating exposé and hang my head in shame and embarrassment.

All of the UK’s recent conflicts – Iraq, Afghanistan and Libya – have been total failures in spite of the efforts of our men and women…None of these conflicts has resulted in anything remotely resembling success. All have failed, and failed not badly, but catastrophically.

[Haven’t] the years of involvement in the post 9/11 wars [been], excepting the two world wars, the most expensive and least successful decade and a half in British military history?

The bulk of the responsibility for them [the failure] must be laid at the doors of our politicians who have little idea of conflict and consequences and no experience thereof…However, if Iraq in 2003 was Blair’s war the generals were complicit not only in its inception but also in its failure.

This book sets out to be one man’s reasonably well-informed view of why our forces, and our army in particular, have performed so badly in recent operations.

This isn’t a history of the British army campaigns in Iraq and Afghanistan so much as a sustained 250-page analysis of why they went so very, very, very wrong. Extremely wrong. Mind-bogglingly wrong. In the introduction Ledwidge writes that he is ‘calling the high command of the armed forces to account for what I regard as nothing less than a dereliction of duty‘ (p.11) and he proceeds to flay politicians, civil servants, advisers and senior military figures with a cat o’ nine tails.

Then, in the longer second half of the book, Ledwidge analyses half a dozen major themes which emerge from the failed wars (the real nature of counterinsurgency, the changing face of military intelligence, the need for a more self-critical and reflective culture in the army) and suggests practical reforms to create an army fit for 21st century combat.

Ledwidge’s qualifications

Ledwidge is formidably well qualified to discuss the issues. He has had an impressively wide ranging career both in and outside the military, and served in all the countries under discussion.

Ledwidge began his career as a lawyer. After qualifying, he spent eight years practising as a criminal barrister in his home city of Liverpool. He then worked for a decade in the Balkans and throughout the former Soviet Union in international human rights protection, criminal law reform, and institution building at the highest levels of government. He developed particular expertise in missing persons, human trafficking and torture prevention.

Ledwidge explains in the introduction that he fancied diversifying and volunteered to join the Royal Naval Reserve, learning navigation and seamanship on minesweepers in the North Sea. He was commissioned in 1993 and went on to serve for fifteen years as a reserve officer with extensive operational experience, retiring as head of the Human Intelligence branch (p.267).

In 1996 he went to Bosnia to serve alongside the military in a team tasked with identifying and tracking down war criminals. In 1998 he moved on to Kosovo as part of a military/civilian peacekeeping unit and was there during the actual war, 1998 to 1999. After the Balkans he served with the Organisation for Security and Co-operation in Europe, in states of the former Soviet Union, mostly Tajikistan.

In 2003 he was called back into regular military service and sent to Basra, in southern Iraq, leading one of the teams of the Iraq Survey Group, tasked with finding the mythical weapons of mass destruction. In 2007 to 08 he served as the first ‘Justice Advisor’ to the UK Mission in Helmand Province.

In 2009 he retired as a military officer. During and after the war in Libya (2011 to 2012) he performed a similar role at the UK Embassy in Libya. (He has also worked in Ukraine during the current war, a period obviously not covered in this book.)

Nowadays Ledwidge is an academic, a senior lecturer at the University of Portsmouth. He is the author of this and a number of other books about contemporary warfare, and regularly appears on the media as an expert.

The first three chapters of the book deal with 1) Iraq 2) Afghanistan and 3) Libya. They aren’t detailed histories of events such as you find in Jack Fairweather’s and numerous other chronicles. They cover just enough of the events to raise the issues and themes which he then addresses in the second, analytical, half of the book.

There are no maps. Shame. Obviously you can look it all up online, still… And it’s poorly copy-edited. Ledgewick repeats adjectives or adverbs in the same sentence. At one point he lists the countries involved in the Syrian conflict and includes Russia twice in the same list. Should have been better edited.

1. Basra

In the invasion of Iraq in March 2003 the Brits were assigned to take Basra, the second city of Iraq, close to the Gulf of Persia, sitting astride the Shatt al-Arab waterway which is formed from the junction of the rivers Tigris and Euphrates, and only 50k from the border with Iran. At one point he likens old Basra to cosmopolitan seaports like Liverpool or Marseilles (p.16). But the Islamic revolution in Iran, followed by 8 years of the Iran-Iraq War, followed by Saddam’s ill-fated invasion of Kuwait, followed by ten years of Western sanctions had made it a harder, poorer, bitterer place to live and brought out a fanatical strain in many of the mostly Shia Muslim population.

Once the invasion was complete the British Army was given responsibility for the occupation of Basra and the four southern provinces around it (Basra, Maysan, Al Muthanna and Nasariyah), the heartland of Iraq’s Shia community. However, almost immediately the city was taken it became clear that British politicians, the Ministry of Defence, the General Staff and senior planners had no idea what to do next:

‘It became very apparent to me shortly after crossing the border that the government and many of my superiors had no idea what they were doing.’ (Colonel Tim Collins, p.20)

‘There was no strategic planning or direction at all beyond the military invasion. There was no articulated strategic context nor end state. There was no campaign plan.’ (Major General Albert Whitley, adviser to the US commanding general)

‘[There was a] lack of any real understanding of the state of the country post-invasion. We had not done enough research, planning into how the country worked post-sanctions…None of this had been really thought through.’ (General Sir Freddie Viggers)

Numbers

In Kosovo NATO forces were able to secure order because they had the numbers to do so. In Basra and south Iraq British forces never had anything like enough boots on the ground to make society to secure, to ensure law and order. They lost control of the streets in the first few days when looters ran rampant, criminal gangs flourished, random street crime became endemic – and never recovered it.

The lack of any thought whatsoever as to how the army might deal with looters was to have disastrous consequences. (p.24)

George Bush and Tony Blair made speeches promising the Iraqis reconstruction of their country, peace and prosperity, a flourishing economy and democratic accountability. None of this was delivered and it turned out the invaders couldn’t even make the streets safe. Carjackings, kidnappings, rape, gang violence all flourished out of control within weeks.

More than any other factor, the restoration and maintenance of order requires numbers. (p.24)

On 26 June politicians and generals were woken from their dreams when six military policemen were killed in the town of Majar al-Kabir, due to failures of communication, malfunctioning equipment etc. The real point was that the town, and the whole area, had a proud tradition of resisting invaders including Saddam Hussein’s own security forces, something which the British forces simply didn’t know about or understand (p.27).

Ledwidge arrived in September 2003 after the first honeymoon was over. British soldiers no longer wandered the streets in soft hats, stopping off at cafes. They were coming under increasingly sustained attacks: roadside bombs, ambushes, snipers.

Meanwhile Shia death squads emerged, assassinating former members of Saddam’s regime, terrorising Sunni Muslims into leaving entire areas under threat of death (i.e. ethnic cleansing à la Bosnia), kidnapping, torturing and murdering any possible opponents, and imposing a strict Puritan religious orthodoxy on the street (mostly against women) (p.31).

Instead of addressing any of this, British forces had enough on their plate simply defending themselves. In fact this became their main aim. Ledwidge says his utterly fruitless efforts leading a team looking for WMDs crystallised the way the occupying forces were interested entirely in their own concerns and didn’t give a monkeys about the million Basrawis whose city was turning into hell.

The Geneva conventions

Is an invading or conquering army responsible for securing law and order? Emphatically yes. It is a fundamental principle of the Geneva Conventions. Apparently Colin Powell summed this up to George Bush as ‘You broke it, you own it.’ None of the invading forces acted on this legal basis. Donald Rumsfeld joked about the widespread looting days after the invasion, apparently unaware that the coalition forces had an internationally binding legal duty to prevent it.

For a year after the invasion Shia militias, backed by Iran, took control of the streets. In an example of their complete lack of understanding, the British project for training new corps of Iraqi police ended up recruiting many of these militias who then, wearing uniforms supplied by British taxpayers and wielding guns paid for British taxpayers, set about terrorising, extorting, raping and killing Basrawi citizens – who then wondered why their British occupiers were allying with murderers. The British hoped that they were ‘incorporating’ the militias into a new police force. Instead they were legitimising the militias (pages 35 to 36).

Rotations and reconstruction

The British Army had a policy of rotating units home every 6 months. The army saying has it that you spend the first two months learning the job, the next two months doing it capably enough, and the last two months hanging on and not getting injured, before rotating home for ‘tea and medals’.

This system guaranteed that just as any particular brigades or battalion and their senior officers was about to get an inkling of how local society functioned, had made important contacts and were building trust, they were abruptly whisked away. The system guaranteed a lack of continuity or consistency and prevented any kind of long-term planning.

Instead new brigades came in with senior officers determined to make a ‘splash’. Often they worked out one significant or ‘signature’ offensive, carried it out – some pointless firefight resulting in a hundred or so dead enemy militants and swathes of civilian homes and properties destroyed – then hunkered back down in their base till rotated home and a medal for the commander-in-chief. (p.90)

This happened every six months as the actual city the British were meant to be policing slipped further and further into Shia militia control.

Jaish al-Mahdi

The biggest Shia militia was the Jaish al-Mahdi (JAM), loyal to the figure who emerged as the head of militant Shiism, Muqtada al-Sadr. To cut a long story short, despite the British Army’s best efforts, the JAM ended up taking over Basra.

By the end of 2006, control of the city had essentially been lost to the Shi’a armed groups. In September 2006 Basra was to all intents and purposes the domain of one of them – the Jaish al-Mahdi (JAM), the military wing of the Office of the Martyr Sadr (OMS). (p.39)

Attacks on British outposts intensified until by 2006 they were on a war footing. Given the complete collapse in security on their watch, absolutely no reconstruction of any type took place. The rubbish piled up in the streets, many of which were open sewers, electricity was rare and erratic, water supplies were unsafe, bombed schools remained in ruins. Nothing.

‘Basra was a political and military defeat.’ (Commodore Steven Jermy, p.40)

‘I don’t know how you could see the British withdrawal from Basra in 2007 in any other light than as a defeat.’ (Colonel Peter Mansoor, p.41)

Operation Sinbad

In September 2006 the British launched Operation Sinbad which aimed to take on the most corrupt ‘police’ stations and clear them out. Some measure of clear-out was achieved, at the cost of ferocious firefights, but as soon as the operation ended in February 2007, the Shia militias and gangs returned.

On the same day the operation ended, 18 February 2007, Tony Blair announced a major ‘drawdown’ of troops in Basra, from 7,000 to 4,000. Many of the officers Ledwidge quotes consider this the moment of defeat. It signalled to friend and foe alike that the British were giving up and running away.

Withdrawal

The incoming commander, General Jonathan Shaw, decided to withdraw the British garrison in Basra Palace to the heavily fortified allied airfield 10 miles outside of town. It was dressed up in fancy terminology, but it was giving up. The British did a deal with JAM whereby they notified the militants whenever they were going to exit the airbase and were only allowed to patrol Basra with the JAM’s permission. British rule in Basra had produced:

‘the systematic abuse of official institutions, political assassinations, tribal vendettas, neighbourhood vigilantism and enforcement of [Islamic] social mores, together with the rise of criminal mafias.’ (Middle Eastern Report number 67, 25 June 2007)

‘The short version is that the Brits have lost Basra, if indeed they ever had it…’ (US officer close to General Petraeus)

‘The military’s failure to provide a safe environment for the local population represented a strategic failure for the UK in Iraq.’ (James K. Wither, author of Small Wars and Insurgencies)

In defence of the British position are the arguments that: a) British occupation couldn’t go on forever b) the political and popular will back in Britain had turned against a demonstrable failure; but most of all c) it was felt that it was time for the Iraqi government to step up to the plate and take responsibility for security in its second city. So Basra was ‘formally’ handed over to the Iraqi government in December 2007. But the Iraqi government didn’t have the wherewithal i.e. army or neutral and functioning police force, to retake it.

There was a fourth reason British troops were drawn down in 2008. The politicians and generals both wanted to refocus their efforts on Afghanistan. This was:

  1. a desert war i.e not mired in heavily populated cities
  2. a ‘good’ and moral war i.e. against a defined enemy, the Taliban
  3. offered the British Army the opportunity to redeem itself in the sceptical eyes of the Americans (stated in so many words by General Sir Richard Dannatt, p.62)

More sinisterly, 4) some officers are quoted to the effect that the general staff needed to find something for the battalions coming free in Iraq to do in order to justify the military budget. ‘Use them or lose them’ was the motto.

And so the British campaign in Afghanistan was motivated, at bottom, by not just domestic British politics (Blair’s ongoing wish to suck up to Bush), but Whitehall bickering about the Ministry of Defence’s budget. Well, a lot of British soldiers, and thousands of Afghans, were to die so that the British Army general staff could maintain its funding in the next budget round.

2. Helmand

History

The British had ‘form’ in Afghanistan. During the Victorian imperial era we fought at least two wars against Afghans plus innumerable skirmishes. Afghanistan was a loose bundle of tribal regions between the north-west frontier of imperial India and the Russian Empire and so the site of the famous ‘Great Game’ i.e. extended spying and political machinations against Russia.

We had our arses kicked in the First Afghan War of 1839 to 1842 which featured the largest British military disaster of the nineteenth century, when a force of 4,500 soldiers and 12,000 civilians were forced to abandon Kabul and retreat through the Khyber Pass on 1 January 1842. One man, one man, alone survived. In the Second Afghan War of 1878 to 1880 the British lost the battle of Maiwand to a coalition of tribal chiefs.

The thing about Maiwand is that it’s about 60 miles from Lashkar Gah, the capital of Helmand Province where the British now went. Although nobody in Britain remembers the battle, the Afghans do: it’s the great moment when they took on the might of the British Empire and triumphed. In Afghan history the battle holds something like the place of Agincourt in our national myth. The British were blundering into the heartland of Afghan pride and patriotism. Once again, colossal ignorance.

‘We knew very little about Helmand Province.’ (Air Chief Marshal Sir Glen Torpy, p.69)

British soldiers arriving to police the area where they lost a famous battle to the great-great-great-grandfathers of the present tribal leaders was, in effect, a challenge to a rematch. Which is why Ledwidge quotes president of Afghanistan Ashraf Ghani saying that, if there’s one country from the entire international community which emphatically shouldn’t have been sent to south Afghanistan, it was Britain (p.66).

Situation in 2007

Some Brits had been in place since 2001 when small units of US and UK special forces were infiltrated into the north of the city and directed the campaign to overthrow the Taliban. A small British unit helped secure Kabul, and one had been quietly operating a provincial reconstruction team in the north of the country.

Since the overthrow of the Taliban in 2001 American special forces had been holding Helmand Province from a base in the capital Lashkar Gah, which, under their relaxed supervision, was completely peaceful. It was the arrival of the Brits which triggered the violence which was soon to engulf them, characterise their 3 years in the country, and lead to another crushing strategic defeat.

Bosnia and a proper force

When the Brits took part in peacekeeping in Bosnia they were part of a force 60,000 strong, in a relatively benign security setup (no Kosavars or Serbs attacked patrols), close to the European countries with large NATO bases i.e. easily resupplied. Many officers apparently thought Helmand would be the same sort of thing because Helmand Province is the same rough size as Bosnia and has a similar population, around 1 million. Hence Defence Secretary John Reid confidently asserting that the army would spend its 3 year mission supervising reconstruction projects without a shot being fired. What an idiot.

The British deployed a small force of just 3,500 to cover an area two and a half times the size of Wales, with little or no infrastructure i.e. roads, 8,000 miles from home, with little or no knowledge about the local people, their ethnic or tribal makeup, culture or history (p.69).

Deposing the one man who held the province together

When the Brits arrived the chief power in the region was a warlord named Sher Muhammed Akhundzada or SMA for short (p.70). He practiced extortion and intimidation but he had suppressed all other rivals and so in effect kept the peace. SMA was also heavily involved in opium cultivation and heroin production, the leading component of the local economy. Well, in 2005 the British prevailed upon President Karzai to get rid of SMA, to the dismay of the Americans and aid workers.

The inevitable happened. With the local strongman who’d been keeping the peace removed, a host of smaller gangs and militias moved into the area, notably the once-cowed remnants of the Taliban. Removing SMA was the single act which triggered all the chaos which followed. It was the Brit equivalent of Bremer dissolving the Iraqi army and police (p.71).

Heroin

At international meetings British politicians had enthusiastically volunteered the British Army to lead on combating the drugs trade. Trouble was the British were also trying to mount a hearts and minds counterinsurgency campaign, and the two were diametrically opposed. Every time they shut down a poppy plantation and burned all the heroin, they made an angry enemy of the farmer and his workers and dependents. Worse, some operations were closed down while others continued to thrive, leading to the belief that the entire policy was just another form of extortion and corruption (p.71).

SAS advice

An SAS unit had been operating in the area in co-operation with the Americans for four years. They were tasked with writing a report ahead of the deployment of the 3,500 British forces. They advised we keep SMA in place, would need a significant increase in numbers and money in order to carry on the Americans’ effective hearts and minds campaign, and that the Brits should remain within the highly populated central part of the province (p.74).

Instead the Brits sent a small force with little money, got rid of the one man who could control the province, and then took the decision to ignore the SAS advice and disperse the troops to small barracks set up in each town. The fancy ambition was to ‘disperse and hold’. Maps in HQ showed ‘inkspots’ of pacification which would slowly join up till the whole province was pacified and reconstruction could crack on.

Platoon houses under attack

Of course that never happened. Instead, small forces found themselves trapped in what became known as ‘platoon houses’ in Helmand’s various towns, Lashkar Gah, Musa Qaleh, Sangin and so on. Ledwidge summarises the deployment in a devastating litany of mistakes. The force deployed:

with vulnerable Snatch Land Rovers, no real counter-IED capability, not enough helicopters, no air-to-ground fire capability, and only a limited ability to gather intelligence or carry out combat operations. This made it a very weak and blind force, and one that would depend entirely on the goodwill of the population and its leaders for its mobility beyond its bases and even its existence within them. (p.75)

The situation was made ten times worse by sacking the one man who knew and controlled the province and who they could have worked with, SMA.

3 Para

The 3,500 troops deployed to Afghanistan were 16 Air Assault Brigade, with one battle group of about 650 men based around the Third Parachute Regiment or 3 Para. These boys are trained to fight and were looking for a fight. Ledwidge thinks they were about the last possible troop you wanted to deploy to a region which required slow, subtle and careful relationship-building.

Testing new kit

The army had recently acquired some of the new Apache helicopters. These have awesome firepower and were designed for high intensity fighting against the invading Soviet Army on the North German plain. Army staff wanted to see them in action. So there was no hearts and minds strategy regarding the Afghan people. Planning was led not by long-term political or strategic considerations, but by operational considerations, which went: we’ve got these troops. We’ve got some new helicopters. We need to use them both or we’ll lose them in the next Treasury spending review. Let’s go!

Dispersing our forces

A long-term development plan for Helmand Province had been written but it was ignored in favour of faulty intelligence. Somehow the figure of 450 Taliban fighters came to the attention of the Brigade staff. This sounded like a number that 3 Para could eliminate. So, instead of concentrating their forces in the heartland as the plan and the small number of US troops who’d been quietly manning Helmand recommended, the decision was taken to deploy small, agile, light forces to each town ready to kill these insurgents (p.83). Ledwidge names the guilty general who took the decision to ignore the draft plan and all the best advice and split up his forces into small pockets scattered round small towns, but it’s such an indictment, such a fatally bad decision, that I am too cautious to name names.

Very quickly these little fortresses our boys were dispersed to became magnets for insurgents keen to show themselves worthy of their great-great-great-great grandfathers and their feats against the invading Angrez. Attacks on the platoon house began immediately and got steadily more intense. British troops found themselves fighting merely to hang on. All thoughts of pacification or security were abandoned. Plans for reconstruction and economic development were abandoned. The Brits proved unable to secure the peace let alone do any reconstruction. Barely able to supply themselves, all they could do was fight off continual attacks. This desperate plight was dignified with the title ‘force protection’. In reality it was hanging on for dear life.

It is this stressed and highly embattled situation which is chronicled in vivid accounts like ‘3 Para’ (‘Real Combat. Real Heroes. Real Stories’) and many other bestselling paperbacks like it. Ledgwidge has a humorous name for this entire genre – herographies, stirring accounts of our plucky lads, surrounded and fighting against the odds. He suggests there’s something in our national psyche which warms to the notion of the plucky underdog, the Battle of Britain, the Blitz. But it’s all rubbish. These embattled outposts were created by a commanding officer who went against the advice of the Americans and a handful of Brit SAS troops who had been quietly hunkered down in Lashkar Gah and kept the province void of violence from 2001 to 2006 when 3 Para arrived and stirred up a hornet’s nest.

Same with Sniper One, Sergeant Dan Mills’ vivid, Sun-style account of hanging on in a fortified base against sustained assault by ‘insurgents’ in al-Amarah, south-east Iraq. From the first page the account shows dazzling ignorance about the environment he’s been posted to. The entire narrative opens with the way that, on their very first day, on their very first patrol, of all the places to pull over their Snatch Land Rovers for a breather, they chose to park outside the local headquarters of the fierce and violent Shia militia, the Jaish al-Mahdi. The fiercely chauvinistic militants inside took this to be a calculated insult to their pride and manliness and so, with no warning, opened fire on the patrol and lobbed grenades at them, one of which severely injured a mate of Dan’s, leading to a sustained firefight. When relief vehicles were sent to ‘extract’ them, these were ambushed and proved unable to reach them etc.

It’s a dramatic story and would make the great opening scene of a movie but, having read Ledwidge’s high-level, strategic analysis, you could hardly come up with a clearer example of the blundering British ignorance of the situation on the ground, ignorance of the subtleties and dangers of local power politics, feuds and rivalries which condemned our troops to being surrounded and besieged both in Basra and Helmand. Same thing happened in both places. No lessons were learned. Nothing was understood.

Dan Mills’ intense and violent experience of being besieged lasted four months until the entire garrison of his particular fortress, Cimic House, was evacuated and ‘extracted’ back to the more defensible base at the local airport. Mills is at pains to tell us they left with honour. But really, like the British army as a whole in both Basra province and Helmand province, they were soundly beaten and ran away.

Only tiny numbers were actual fighting troops

A central and rather mind-boggling fact is that, of a deployment of 3,500 troops it may be that only a couple of hundred are available for actual patrols. In the Afghan chapter as in the Basra chapter, Ledwidge explains that a quite astonishing number of the ‘troops’ sent to these kinds of places have other roles to play apart from combat: from military police manning prisons, to cooks and engineers, from planners and general staff through the comms and media and press teams. There are the drivers who bravely bring in provisions and ammo to the central bases over long, exposed supply lines, there are the helicopter pilots and the scads of engineers and specialists required to keep them airborne. There are, of course, expert handlers, storers and maintainers of all the different types of ammunition, quartermasters and logistics specialists. The list goes on and on and explains the stunning fact that, out of a battalion of 3,500 men, only 168 were available for foot patrols (p.143). Thus the provincial capital, Lashkar Gah, a town of 200,000, was patrolled by just 200 British soldiers, of which only 20 were actually out on the street at any one time (p.83). Pathetic. Insignificant.

Ledwidge compares the British deployments in Basra and Afghanistan (8,000 and 5,000 in conflict zones with completely unreliable support from the ‘police’) to the well-known deployment to Malaya in the 1950s (which British officers never stopped boring their American colleagues with) which consisted of 40,000 troops working alongside a trustworthy local police force of 100,000. In other words a completely different situation.

The Taliban return

Ledwidge arrived in Afghanistan mid-2007, one year after the initial deployment, to find chaos on the streets and the Brits fighting for their survival in an archipelago of isolated, highly embattled strongholds (p.88). The army had completely lost the initiative and was reduced to hanging on in these forts, rarely able to leave them, their ‘presence’ and ‘authority’ non-existent more than a few hundred yards from the walls – all while the Taliban slowly re-established themselves among the general population as reliable providers of security and justice, albeit of a very harsh variety. Harsh but better than the random outbursts of extreme violence and destruction associated with the angry, frustrated British soldiers.

Sangin and the drugs trade

In Sangin, one of the world centres of the heroin trade, the Brits found themselves drawn into drug turf wars without understanding the complex power politics between rival drug gangs, ‘police’, regional and central government, tribal allegiances and religious motivations. The Brits just labelled them all ‘Taliban’ and thought they achieved something when they killed 5 or 10 or 20 of them in a firefight; when of course such firefights had zero impact on the actual situation. All they ever did was destroy the centres of the towns where these kinds of firefights took place (‘destroying and depopulating town centres’ p.84) and kill lots of innocent civilians; or else forced the populations to flee these new centres of violence, nobody knew where: off into the desert, to other towns, many to the slums of Kabul.

All this reinforced the ancestral perception that the ‘Angrez’ were unwanted invaders who brought only destruction and death – as they did. New insurgents were created whenever their families were injured or killed, new recruits stepped in to replace fathers or brothers. The potential supply of ‘insurgents’ was limitless.

‘Killing insurgents usually serves to multiply enemies rather than subtract them…[something which] is especially relevant in revenge-prone Pashtun communities…’ (General Michael Flynn, former US army chief of intelligence in Iraq, p.206)

This wasn’t helped at all by the adoption of a ‘decapitation’ strategy, increasingly adopted (out of desperation) in Basra and Helmand. It meant targeting supposed leaders of the insurgency and then killing them. There are four obvious objections to this policy. One is that for every ‘Taliban leader’ you kill, at least one if not more male relatives will step into the gap. Two is that almost certainly you will kill innocent civilians in the process, thus inflaming the general population and recruiting more enemy. Three, more than one serving officer raised fears that these decapitation forces degenerated into little more than ‘death squads’, not unlike the notorious death squads which existed in many Latin American countries (p.233).

The fourth objection is that the entire policy relies on accurate intelligence i.e. knowing who these alleged Taliban leaders are. Accurate intelligence was something the Brits never had in either Basra or Helmand. None of them spoke the language. They had to rely on local sources and Ledwidge gives some bleakly funny examples of one or other gang of businessmen or drug barons ‘tipping the British off’ about dangerous ‘Taliban leaders’ who the Brits then dutifully arrested in a violent and destructive raid but when they interrogated them, slowly and embarrassingly discovered that so-called ‘Taliban leaders’ were in fact heads of a rival business or drugs gang. In other words, the Brits were routinely played for patsies, useful idiots who could be twisted round the little fingers of savvy local drugs barons and warlords.

So decapitation doesn’t work, you lose the moral high ground, and you multiply your enemy. But it was this desperate expedient, the tactic of a force which has lost the battle, which the Brits resorted to in both Basra and Helmand.

And these counter-productive and sometimes farcical efforts were then publicised by army press and media officers as successful raids, listing the amount of weaponry captured and ‘insurgents’ killed, puff stories and completely meaningless figures which were then reported in the British press, and passed up the chain of command to eventually be shown to naive politicians in PowerPoint presentations which proved how we were winning the war and would bring peace and plenty to Iraq and Afghanistan any minute now, we’re just turning the corner, just give us another billion to finish the job, Prime Minister.

Cause of the destruction

So many civilian deaths were caused because the Brits would go out on a patrol, almost immediately be ambushed and surrounded and start taking casualties, and so radio in for air support. Up would come an Apache attack helicopter armed with guns firing high calibre rockets designed to penetrate Soviet tanks into urban areas packed with houses built of breeze blocks or mud bricks. The choppers might have fought off the attackers but they also devastated all the buildings in a large area (p.82).

This destruction of the centres of every town in Helmand was the direct consequence of not sending enough troops. More troops could have defended themselves better without calling in death from the air. Inadequate troops had to call in what was effectively heavy artillery. The shitty British tradition of trying to do it on the cheap ended up destroying Afghan towns and massacring Afghan civilians.

Imagine your house was completely destroyed in one of the Brits’ pointless ‘pacification’ exercises, maybe your wife or son or brother killed or injured, and the local resistance offered you a stipend to take up arms and help drive these wicked invaders out of your homeland. It would not only be your patriotic, tribal and family duty, but you’d want to do it, to be revenged.

And so the Brits spent years devastating and destroying the very towns they said they’d come to rebuild and ‘develop’. Madness. This pattern continued for four years, ‘an operation that was in a state of drift, chaotically bereft of credible strategy’ (p.91).

Six months rotations

Everything was made worse by the Army’s policy of 6 months rotations. Every 6 months battalions would be rotated home and an entirely new troop came in with new officers and men who didn’t have a clue about their surroundings. The system tended to incentivise each new commanding officer to devise and carry out pointless engagements known as ‘signature operations’ (p.90). British commanders, like middle managers everywhere, have to be seen to be doing something, even if their violent and entirely counter-productive little operations worked against the long-term aims of the deployment i.e. securing the population (p.99). None of the officers had long-term interests. They were only there for 6 months which leads to loss of knowledge, loss of continuity, and continual chopping and changing of plans (p.144).

Allying with a corrupt government

And yet another fundamental flaw: the Brits were meant to be defending ‘the government’ but it took senior Brits many years to realise the ‘government’ in Kabul was no better than a congeries of gangs and cliques and criminals carving up budget money and resources among themselves and their tribes. The mass of the people despised and hated the so-called ‘government’ and we…allied ourselves with them (p.95).

Allying with criminal police

On the ground the Afghan ‘police’ were even worse than the Iraqi police. Iraqi police were notorious for corruption – under Saddam their main occupation was stopping traffic at checkpoints and demanding bribes. But the police in Helmand Province were significantly more vicious; they extorted money with menaces and were notorious for raping women and boys. Every police station had a ‘fun boy’ or house catamite for the officers to sodomise (p.76).

Thus the British were seen to be supporting and helping murders, rapists and extortionists. Ledwidge quotes an aid worker getting a phone call from terrified civilians, after the British ‘secured’ an area of Sangin so that the ‘police’ could sweep through the area looking for the bad guys but, in reality, raping at will and extorting money at gunpoint (p.85). The British allied themselves to the most criminal element in Afghan society. Thus it is absolutely no surprise to learn that everyone, without exception, wanted the rapist-friendly, town-destroying ‘Angrez’ to leave as soon as possible (p.95).

The appeal of the Taliban

The British ‘strategy’ enabled the Taliban to present itself as the representatives of impartial justice and security. After all, that had been their achievement when they came to power in 1996: ending years of civil war between rival warlords. ‘The single most effective selling point of the pre-9/11 Taliban was justice’ (p.94). They could offer what the British couldn’t and slowly the majority of the population came to prefer rough justice to criminal anarchy.

‘The Taliban did not even have a bakery that they can give bread to the people, but still most people support the Taliban – that’s because people are sick of night raids and being treated badly by the foreigners.’ (Afghan farmer, quoted p.233)

Legacy

The deployment of 16 Air Assault Brigade had been nothing short of disastrous. Bereft of insight or perspective of any point of view except the most radical form of ‘cracking on’ they had left a legacy of destroyed towns, refugees and civilian casualties…They had set a pattern of dispersed forts, difficult to defend and even more difficult to support or supply. (p.87)

All this explains why, in 2010, the Americans had to bail the British out and come and secure Helmand, exactly as they had had to take over Basra after the British miserably failed there as well. The Yanks were cheered on arrival in Garmshir, not because they were American, but simply because they weren’t British.

A mission that had begun with high hopes of resurrecting Britain’s military reputation in the eyes of its American allies had resulted only in reinforcing the view that the British were not to be relied on. (p.105)

If Basra damaged the military side of the so-called ‘special relationship’, then Afghanistan destroyed it (p.106). The British ambassador to Afghanistan reflected that the entire campaign was ‘a half-baked effort’ (p.105).

In 2013 Prime Minister David Cameron declared ‘mission accomplished’ (these politicians and their lies) and by the end of 2014 almost all British combat troops had been withdrawn. What Ledwidge didn’t know as he wrote the second edition of this book in 2016 was that 6 years later Joe Biden was to withdraw the final US troops from the Afghanistan with the result that the country fell within a week to the same Taliban who the Brits cheerfully claimed to be eliminating in 2007 and 2008 and 2009. Was it all for nothing? Yes, except for the lasting legacy of bitterness and hatred we left behind. Ledwidge quotes journalist Jean Mackenzie:

I never met an Afghan who did not hold the view that the British were in Helmand to screw them. They hate the British viscerally and historically. Even if they had been competent there was no way the British were going to do well there. But when they came in with gobbledeygook about ‘robust rules of engagement’ and started killing Helmandi civilians, that was it. (p.107)

It is obvious what a huge gap separated the reality experienced by most Afghans and the story the Brits told themselves and, via their sophisticated Comms and Press teams, told the British people and the world. ‘Lies’ is the word that springs to mind. ‘Propaganda’, obviously. ‘Spin’ is the term that was used by New Labour and its media manipulators. But it’s maybe closer to the truth to say comprehensive ‘self deception’.

The weak point of counterinsurgency theory

Counterinsurgency can only work in a state with a strong or supportive government. What the Americans and British in Iraq and Afghanistan told themselves they were doing was supporting ‘government’ forces against insurgents. The problem was that the ‘government’ itself was highly partisan or weak or both, and its representatives on the ground were corrupt and violent and ineffective. Under those circumstances the native populations made the rational decision to opt for the only force which had in the past ensured basic security, the Mahdi Army in Iraq and the Taliban in Afghanistan (p.108). Backing weak governments tends to encourage ethnic nationalism as the only viable alternative.

Sucking up to the Yanks

Damningly, the conclusion Ledwidge comes to is the reason there was never any coherent strategy in either Iraq or Afghanistan, the reason the British generals and majors and soldiers never really knew what they were meant to be doing, is because both campaigns really, in essence, had only one aim: Tony Blair’s wish to suck up to the Americans. Blair wanted to be a player on the world stage, to secure his fame, to stand shoulder to shoulder with the Yanks in their War Against Terror, thought Britain could be the older wiser Athens to America’s bigger richer but unsophisticated Rome, blah blah blah, yadda yadda yadda.

The goal of being America’s best friend may be despicable or admirable according to taste, it doesn’t really matter, because the practical outcome was that the British Army was put to the test and failed, not once but twice, failing to provide security and anything like peace in both southern Iraq and southern Afghanistan. Both times the American Army had to move in and take over and did a much better job. So the net, high-level result was the exact opposite of Blair’s wish to be seen as America’s number one best friend. As Ledwidge puts it, if Basra damaged the so-called ‘special relationship’, Helmand destroyed it (p.106).

3. Libya

In 2011 the Arab Spring began in Tunisia and popular protests soon spread to Libya and Egypt. In Libya anti-government protests broke out in the eastern city of Benghazi. The West worried that Colonel Gaddafi was about to send armed forces to massacre protesters so France, the UK and US sponsored UN resolution 1973 justifying ‘intervention’ to save lives and establishing no fly zones, the concept pioneered in Iraq to protect the Kurds in 1991.

On this basis the French launched lightning air strikes against Gaddafi’s forces as they entered Benghazi and threatened to attack protesters, and in support of the rebel National Transitional Council. As usual, there was a lot of high-minded guff about protecting civilians and how regime change was the last thing on our minds, but there was steady slippage and the bombardments increased to actively support the rebels and quell the government forces.

In June 2011 Ledwidge was deployed to Libya as a ‘stabilisation officer’. On 20 October 2011, Gaddafi was tracked down to a hideout in Sirte, surrounded by the usual clamouring rabble, and beaten and shot to death. There’s grim, dispiriting footage of the event in this this American news report.

Anyway, the point is, you get rid of a long-ruling dictator who’s been holding his country together via repressive, feared security forces and… does it overnight turn into Holland or Vermont? No. It collapses into civil war between rebel factions and into the power and security vacuum come… Islamic terrorists. Exactly as happened in Iraq.

Thus, Ledwidge tells us, Libya under Gaddafi from 1969 to 2011 never harboured any Islamic terrorists. In the years since his fall it has become the North African base of Islamic State and other extreme Islamic groups who now use it as a base to launch attacks into neighbouring countries.

Ledgewick’s thematic critique

Part two of the book (pages 117 to 281) moves on to consider general points and issues raised by the three wars. These are so many and so complicated that I’ll give only a brief selection. They’re addressed in chapters titled:

  • Dereliction of Duty: the Generals and Strategy
  • Cracking On and Optimism Bias: British Military Culture and Doctrine
  • Tactics without Strategy: The Counterinsurgency Conundrum
  • Managing Violence: the Question of Force
  • Strangers in Strange Lands
  • Fixing Intelligence
  • Thinking to Win

The armed forces are top heavy. The army has more generals than helicopters. This in turn breeds groupthink. All senior officers are trained at one college where they are taught to think the same.

Another aspect of the overpopulation of generals is none of them stand up to politicians. Ledwidge gives examples from the Second World War and Malaya of generals demanding that politicians are absolutely clear about the goals and ends of campaigns. He also says generals from previous generations were blunt to politicians about risks. He describes the detailed explanation of the risks of failure give to Margaret Thatcher about the Falklands War. Whereas none of the umpteen senior generals overseeing the deployment to either Iraq or Helmand appears to have explained to the politicians (Blair, Brown) the very serious risk of failure. Trahison des généraux.

On the contrary, many suffered from optimism bias: ‘the tendency to overestimate our chances of positive experiences and underestimate our chances of negative experiences.’ Ledwidge gives examples of junior officers whose frank and candid assessments of situations were criticised as defeatist or even unpatriotic. Very quickly they learned to gloss over setbacks and accentuate the positive. If this pattern is repeated at every rung going up the ladder, then by the time it reaches the politicians military reports tell them we’re winning the war when we’re in fact losing it. Or encourage them to take further bad decisions on the basis of bad intelligence (pages 160 to 170). John Reid later testified that the generals said it would be no problem having a major troop deployment in Iraq and Afghanistan simultaneously (p.162)

Politicians don’t understand the army. Blair went out of his way to praise the army in his appearances before the Chilcott Enquiry by saying they have such a ‘can-do’ attitude. Except that it turned out that they can’t do. At all. But clearly that’s not what they told him. In the war, in Malaya, in the buildup to the Falklands, generals made the political leaders very aware of the risks. But ahead of Iraq and Afghanistan they appear not to have. The attitude was ‘Yes, Prime Minister’, kowtowing and acquiescing. Craven.

There are a number of reasons for this. 1) One is pusillanimity i.e. generals being scared a) about their own careers b) about funding for their service, if they appeared reluctant. 2) Another is groupthink: they all agree and fall in with political will.

3) Ledwidge explains another reason by quoting Max Hastings as saying that the British Army has a long and venerable tradition of failing to send enough men, of trying to do things on the cheap, with not enough troops – a policy which has resulted in a whole series of catastrophes, all of which are air-brushed out of history.

It’s connected to 4) the belief that the British Army is somehow special; that its role in World War Two, in various colonial pacifications, in Northern Ireland, then in Bosnia and Kosovo, somehow gives it a moral superiority, an integrity and decency and blah blah blah which don’t have to rely on banal details like having enough troops or the right equipment to do the job. British exceptionalism.

And this is itself connected to the long-held view that the British somehow won the Second World War, although the soldiers and logistics in the West were mostly American, and the war in the East was, obviously enough, won by the enormous sacrifices of the Russian Army. Yet somehow the belief lingered on through the generations that because we ‘stood alone’ against Hitler and suffered through the Blitz, we were the moral victors of the war. Which in turn leads to 5) the view that we’ll muddle through, that it will all come right because, well, we’re the good guys, right?

All of which explains why the narratives we tell ourselves (and government spin doctors and military press officers tell us) – that we are the good guys coming in to get rid of the terrorists and rebuild your country for you – are so completely at odds with the practical impact we actually had on the lives of people in Iraq and Afghanistan and, to a lesser extent, Libya. And why we couldn’t understand why so many of them came to hate us, tried to kill us, and rejoiced when they drove us out of their countries.

Red teaming

There is an established process to tackle this which is to deploy so-called ‘red teams’ which are simply a group of planners who you pay to think through everything that could go wrong and devise worst case scenarios. To think a plan through from the point of view of the enemy and consider what they’d do, where our weakest points are. In fact just before the deployment to Iraq the Defence Intelligence Staff did produce a red team report. It accurately predicted that after a short honeymoon period the response of the Iraqi population would become fragile and dependent on the effectiveness of the post-conflict administration, as indeed it did. But the report was ignored. As you might expect, Ledwidge recommends that ‘red teaming’ plans is made standard practice, as well as a culture of critique being encouraged at every level of the military hierarchy.

Clear thinking about counterinsurgency

Apparently the Yanks got sick of listening to British officers crapping on about what experts they were at counterinsurgency because of our great achievements in Malaya and Northern Ireland. So Ledgwidge devotes a chapter to extended and fascinating analyses of both campaigns, which demonstrates how they were both utterly different from the situations in Iraq and Afghanistan. Maybe the key difference in both was that Malaya and NI both had a functioning government and a large and reliable police force, neither of which existed in Iraq/Afghan. In Iraq and Afghanistan the army was tasked with fighting an insurgency and rebuilding a national government at the same time.

Divided aims

Having a functioning government in place meant that the military was free to concentrate on handling the insurgency and so were not distracted by requirements of state building or infrastructure reconstruction. Yet these were huge issues in both Iraq and Afghanistan and so split the priorities and distracted the strategies for dealing with the insurgency. The army always had two simultaneous but conflicting agendas, in fact three: 1) deal with the insurgency; 2) support the creation of a new functioning civil government, along with a new police force; 3) try to rebuild infrastructure, power stations and suchlike.

Dividing them into three separate aims like that helps you to understand that any one of those goals would have tested a military presence of modest size, but lumping all three together was an impossible ask. It was too much to ask of any army, but especially one that was undermanned from the start.

Because numbers: 40,000 troops in Malaya + 100,000 reliable police; 28,000 troops in Northern Ireland + tens of thousands of police; but in Afghanistan just 5,000 troops and useless corrupt police. Numbers, numbers, numbers.

More than any other factor, the restoration and maintenance of order requires numbers (p.24)

Ledwidge uses various experts’ ratios of troops to civilians to estimate that there should have been at least 50,000 British troops in Helmand, not 5,000 (p.205). At the height of the Troubles there were 28,000 troops in Northern Ireland (p.202).

In Malaya, contrary to myth, there was also a good deal of coercion, many rebels were shot, there were atrocities (village massacres) and something akin to concentration camps was used to round up the jungle population so as to starve the Chinese communist insurgents of support. I.e it was more brutal than rose-tinted legend depicts.

The importance of intelligence

In Northern Ireland the key was intelligence i.e. the British military and security forces got to know the enemy really, really well. This in-depth knowledge allowed them to contain IRA campaigns but more importantly, paved the way for negotiations. And the negotiations which brought the IRA in were carried out by civilians not military.

Ledwidge has an entire chapter explaining traditional definitions of military intelligence, along with ‘the intelligence cycle’ (p.232), a lengthy explanation of why it worked in Northern Ireland (stable government, large reliable police force, lengthy deployments – 2 years – similarity in background between army and IRA, same language), similar culture, values and experiences, down to supporting the same football teams (p.237). None of this applied in Iraq/Afghanistan, which triggers a chapter-long analysis of how modern intelligence seeking needs to be rethought and updated to apply to such demanding environments (pages 231 to 248).

With disarming candour, Ledwidge says sometimes the best intelligence isn’t derived from hi-tech spying but from just talking to journalists, especially local journalists; they often have far better sources than whip-smart intelligence officers helicoptered into a situation who don’t speak the language, have no idea of the political and social setup, and are asked to supply actionable intelligence within weeks. Read the local papers. Listen to the local radio stations. Meet with local journalists.

Ledwidge was himself an intelligence officer within the military, and then a civil rights worker for the Organisation for Security and Cooperation in Europe i.e. as a soldier and a civilian, so is well placed to make this analysis.

All wars are, at bottom, political and require political solutions

Maybe the most important point of all is that counterinsurgency is a political activity. David Galula the French counterinsurgency expert thought that counterinsurgency operations should be 80%/20% political to military (p.177). The military effort only exists to support what must first and foremost be a political strategy (ideally, of negotiating towards a peaceful settlement).

This was the most important point about the Malaya Emergency, that it was run by a civilian Brit, with civilian ends in view.

If [the great military theorist Carl von] Clausewitz tells us nothing else he tells us this: overriding all is the political element. No amount of military nostrums or principles will make up for the lack of a workable political objective, rooted in a firmly realistic appreciation of national interest. (p.188)

The great failure of the British campaigns in Iraq and Afghanistan was that they became entirely military, became narrowly focused on finding and killing the enemy. Ledwidge associates this with the failed American strategy in Vietnam. In Nam the Americans boasted at their daily press conferences about the number of enemy they’d killed. Military and politicians and public were all led to think that numbers of enemy dead equalled ‘success’. But of course it didn’t. The Yanks killed tens of thousands of the enemy but lost the war because it was a political struggle, for the allegiance of the people.

Thus Ledwidge says he knew the Brits were losing in Afghanistan when he arrived to find the army press conferences once again focusing on numbers of insurgents or ‘Taliban’ killed in each day’s skirmishes and firefights. Political engagement and discussion had been sidelined in favour of a purely military solution; but there was no purely military solution and so we failed.

Spiralling costs

Did you know it cost £400,000 per year to maintain one soldier in either of these countries? Or that one 1,000 kilo bomb dropped from a plane on a suspect target cost £250,000? Ledwidge says the campaign in Afghanistan cost some £6 billion per year (can that be right?). And for what? Ledwidge estimates the cost of both campaigns to the British government at £40 billion. For nothing.

Better education

The book ends with a chapter comparing the high education standards expected of American officers (and recruits) and the absence of such criteria for the British. He reviews the astonishing number of senior US generals with PhDs, something I noticed in Thomas Ricks’s book about Iraq, and which backs up Emma Sky’s experience that all the senior US officers she worked with are astonishingly well educated and erudite. Not only better educated, but more flexible in their thinking. Having attended civilian universities for several years they are used to free and open debate and to defending their opinions and analyses in open forums – something British army officers are actively discouraged from doing. Ledwidge gives names of British army officers who’ve written essays critical of the army whose publication has been blocked by MoD officials, or who have chosen to resign from the army altogether in order to publish their book.

Due to the US army’s encouragement and lavish spending on higher education for its officers, there are currently more American army officers studying for research degrees in British universities than British army officers (p.260).

With the ever-growing role of cyber warfare, Ledwidge cites a contemporary Chinese military theorist, Chang Mengxiong, who says that future wars will be about highly skilled, well-educated operatives – not clever but conformist generals promising they can do anything to naive politicians, then ‘cracking on’ and muddling through the dire situation they’ve got their men into, killing more and more innocent civilians, retreating to embattled forts and finally retreating with their tails between their legs. It’ll be about fighting smart. (From this perspective, the Russian invasion of Ukraine seems even more blundering, brutal and outdated.)

Ledwidge’s recommendations

Our generals were not up to the job. We need better ones. The number of one-star and above generals across all three services should be cut from 450 to 150. We don’t need 130 major generals or 800 full colonels.

Senior officers need to be drawn from a more diverse pool, not just in terms of gender and race, but expert civilians should be encouraged to join the army, and take officer training.

To reach the rank of general you must take an in-depth course in strategy (currently not necessary). Parts of this could be offered by senior business people and academics who specialise in logical thinking.

The savings from getting rid of hundreds of senior officers who do little more than fill committees and shuffle paperwork would generate savings which could be invested in training courses at civilian institutions, such as universities, such as the US Army pays for its senior generals to take, in order to produce soldier scholars.

The army keeps buying ridiculously expensive hardware which turns out to be irrelevant to the kind of wars we are now fighting. Part of that is down to the blatant corruption of the senior staff who make purchasing decisions and who, upon retirement, take up lucrative directorships at the very companies they’ve awarded billion pound contracts to. They should be forbidden by law from doing so for at least five years after leaving the services.

The chances are the next really serious threats we will face to our security come from either a fully armed massive Russian army, or from lethal cyber `attacks. Since successive governments have cut defence budgets and successive general staffs have frittered it away on expensive hardware, the more basic elements of a functioning military have been overlooked, most importantly the ability to think, process and adapt very fast to probably fast-moving threats.

Hence the need for a broad-based strategic education, and not the narrow, tradition and conservative fare dished up at Sandhurst or the Joint Services Command and Staff College (JSCSC) at Shrivenham.

Conclusions (mine, not Ledgwidge’s)

1. Never believe anything the British Army says about any of its campaigns.

2. Whenever you hear a preening politician or ‘expert’ journalist crapping on about ‘the special relationship’ between the UK and the US, remember the humiliating shame of the British Army having to be bailed out not once but twice by the American army from jobs it had volunteered to do and egregiously failed at. Remember the roster of senior US military figures Ledwidge lines up to testify that the Americans will never trust the British Army again.

3. Never, ever, ever send the British Army on any more ‘security and reconstruction missions’. They will not only miserably fail – due to lack of intelligence, planning, failure to understand the nature of the conflict, refusal to use modern intelligence approaches and above all, cheapskate paltry numbers and lack of resources – but they will make the situation worse, occupying wretched little platoon forts which become the epicentres of destructive firefights, devastating town centres, leaving thousands dead. And sooner or later they will have to be bailed out by the Americans.

In making and executing strategic decisions both senior officers and politicians should understand the basic limitations on capability and be fully apprised of potential failure. (p.138)

4. Dictators in Third World countries may be evil but, on balance, may be better than the alternatives, these being either a) the situation created by invading US and UK forces in Iraq and Afghanistan (insurgency, terrorism, devastation) OR b) the situation created by a failed attempt to overthrow a dictator, as in Syria, i.e. anarchic civil war, huge numbers of civilian deaths, millions of wretched refugees and the explosive growth of terrorism.

Maybe stick with the dictator. Evil, but limited and controllable evil, which is better than the other sort.

One-sentence conclusion

After the expensive failures in Iraq and Afghanistan and the hasty and counter-productive involvement in Libya (the 2011 bombing campaign to support Gaddafi’s opponents), two fundamental criteria must be applied to any thought of similar interventions in the future:

Before any military commitment it is essential that: 1) a clear political objective be set, and that 2) sufficient resources be made available to get the job done. (p.274)


Credit

Losing Small Wars: British Military Failure in the 9/11 Wars by Frank Ledwidge was first published by Yale University press in 2011. References are to the YUP paperback of the second edition (2017).

New world disorder reviews

RE/SISTERS: A Lens on Gender and Ecology @ the Barbican

This is a huge, stunning, world-bestriding exhibition of some 250 photographs (and some films and video installations) on the subject of women and the environment, a wide-ranging survey of the multiple ways the planet is being exploited and degraded, how women too often bearing the brunt of environmental destruction, and the scores of ways women artists and activists are fighting back. At least that’s the exhibition’s aim.

A review in six parts

My review is in six parts. In part one I summarise the hyper-feminist premises or assumptions which underlie this very text-heavy and theory-driven exhibition.

In part two I give a selection of some of the feminist theory and critical theory keywords which abound in the wall captions and which were new to me.

In part three I go through the exhibition itself, quoting in full the wall labels for the introduction and the six themes or categories into which the exhibition is divided, to give you a good flavour of the text-heavy, theory-rich discourse surrounding it. Under each theme I show one or two works from that section, mostly photographs, accompanied by the complete wall caption for the relevant artist and work.

My aim is to show not only how text-heavy the show is but also how parti pris, propagandist and chauvinist the curators’ commentary is. ‘Parti pris’ means ‘preconceived, prejudiced or biased’. ‘Chauvinist’ means ‘displaying excessive or prejudiced support for one’s own cause or group’. This may sound unfair or itself biased as you read it here, which is why I’m going to quote the curators at such length, to back up this opinion and so you can judge for yourself.

Part four lists all the participating artists a) for your information and b) to show that, despite the curators’ fine words about empowering artists from the developing world or Indigenous communities, a full 40% of the artists on display are, of course, from America, home of rapacious capitalism, international finance, the biggest industrial-capitalist complex in the world, and proud birthplace of Donald Trump. So the show has a kind of inbuilt irony between its radical aspirations for diversity, and its all-too-familiar reliance on American voices and perspectives.

Part five briefly mentions some of the other recent big art exhibitions on the subject of the environment, global warming etc, as a comparison.

Part six gives my own responses, to the subject of eco-activism, to the art works and to the feminist discourse which dominates the exhibition. I wouldn’t blame you if you skip this bit. I’m not sure how much of it I myself fully believe. I spoke to two strangers at the exhibition and both of them were finding it as challenging to process the sheer amount of information, the range of issues, and the fiercely feminist perspective of the exhibition, as I was.

Why the extensive quotes

The sweeping generalisations in part one are as much as possible based on the curators’ own words. They may seem extreme or satirical to begin with but: a) I base the summary on quotes from the exhibition press release or wall labels or catalogue and have indicated quotations by single speech marks; and b) as you read on into the section quoting all the wall labels, I hope you’ll see that wild though they at first seem, they simply reflect the spirit and rhetoric of the show.

This is one of the most text-heavy exhibitions I’ve ever been to. There are six themes or categories and about 50 artists, each of whom gets a long explanatory wall caption and then additional ones for many of the works. There are maybe 80 wordy captions in total.

Not only that, but the captions come straight out of contemporary feminist and critical theory and are dense with jargon, using terms I’d never come across before (which is why I select some of these terms for consideration in part 2).

The sheer number and length of the captions means that if you read all them (as I did) Re/Sisters is like being trapped inside a book, a degree-level textbook on feminist theory, ecofeminism and post-colonial theory. I had to take a ten-minute break after doing the ground floor before going up to the first floor rooms because my brain was reeling.

I’m going to quote the introductions to each of the six sections in full to give you a sense of a) how long they are and b) how densely laden with the assumptions and jargon of feminist and critical theory.

And I’m question lots of it. Just because it’s written on a gallery wall doesn’t mean it can’t be pondered, questioned and, sometimes, rejected.

Part 1. The feminist premises of the exhibition

In the feminist discourse of this exhibition all women are fabulous. All women are creative. All women have an instinctive feel for nature and mother earth. All women are nurturing and caring and so, obviously, all women are environmentalists. No women drive cars, fly in planes, buy wasteful consumer goods or run companies and corporations which contribute to pollution and ecocide. No woman is responsible for in any way harming any part of the environment. Only men do any of these wicked things, only men run ‘the mechanical, patriarchal order that is organised around the exploitation of natural resources’ and deploy the ‘masculine cultural imperialism’ that underpins it.

‘Terms such as Capitalocene, Plantationocene and Anthropocene act as cultural-geological markers that make clear that the violent abuses inflicted upon our ecological processes are inherently gendered, and shine a light on the toxic combination of globalised corporate hegemony and destructive masculinities that characterise the age of capitalism.’ (Catalogue page 16)

‘The violent abuses inflicted upon our ecological processes are inherently gendered’ and that gender is male.

Men are not only destroying the planet but, in the process, oppressing all women everywhere and all Indigenous peoples everywhere, via ‘the oppression of “othered” bodies’. There is a direct link between men’s degradation of the planet and men’s oppression of women and men’s oppression of Indigenous societies.

Battling against oppressive men and their destruction of the planet are brave women activists and artists all around the world. They practice ‘a radical and intersectional brand of eco-feminism that is diverse, inclusive, and decolonial’. They celebrate the fact that merely by being born a woman means you are morally, spiritually and environmentally superior.

This exhibition, ‘RE/SISTERS: A Lens on Gender and Ecology’, celebrates the women (or gender non-conforming) artists and the women activists who are fighting against male oppression and male capitalism, against the cis-heteronormative patriarchy, against masculinist capitalism, against phallogocentrism to save the planet.

RE/SISTERS brings together 50 international female (and gender non-conforming) artists to ‘show how women are regularly at the forefront of advocating and caring for the planet’.

The curators claim that environmental and gender justice are indivisible parts of a global struggle for equality and justice. Art exhibitions can ‘address existing power structures that threaten our increasingly precarious ecosystem’.

Shanay Jhaveri, Head of Visual Arts at the Barbican, is quoted as saying:

‘In this era of deepening ecological crisis, we are proud to present RE/SISTERS which interrogates the disproportionate detrimental effects of extractive capitalism on women and in particular Global Majority groups.’

In other words, the planet is being destroyed – women and minorities suffer most.

So the exhibition includes not just women but artists from ‘the Global Majority and Indigenous peoples’ because these peoples are even more intrinsically sympathetic to the environment than women are, and even more the victims of heteropatriarchal global capitalism. Including Indigenous peoples in this way offers ‘a vision of an equitable society wherein people and planet alike are venerated and treated fairly’.

It’s usually about this point in the press release that you learn that the exhibition was sponsored by BP or the Sackler family and burst out laughing. Not this time. Big art galleries have finally cleaned up their acts. This exhibition was sponsored by environmentally-friendly companies such as the Vestiaire Collective:

‘Our mission is to transform the fashion industry for a more sustainable future. As the world’s first B Corp fashion resale platform, we champion the circular fashion movement as an alternative to overproduction, overconsumption and the wasteful practices of the fashion industry. Our philosophy is simple: Long Live Fashion.’

And the Helen Frankenthaler Foundation, which sponsors the Frankenthaler Climate Initiative (FCI). In the gallery bookshop there’s a space where you can donate your ‘pre-loved’ clothing to the Vestiaire Collective.

Part 2. New words

Here’s some quotes from the exhibition catalogue to get you in the zone, and also so you can check how up-to-speed you are with the latest terminology from feminist, eco-feminist, post-colonial and critical theory.

The infrastructural gaze, as in:

‘[Sim Chi Yin’s] works juxataposes the aestheticisation of the “infrastructural gaze” with the human gaze’.

Heteropatriarchal, as in:

‘Operating at the nexus of race, gender, urban ecological infrastructure, systemic injustice, environmental racism and heteropatriarchal capitalism, LaToya Ruby Frazier’s striking series “Flint is Family” exposes the segregation and racism that persists in the contemporary American landscape.’

Or:

‘In stark contrast to the received dualistic, heteropatriarchal value system of the Global North that views nature and culture as fundamentally opposed ways of being, Caycedo’s work advocates an interspecies politics that recognises nature as having agency.’

The heteropatriarchal gaze, as in:

‘Directly refuting the freighted position that men are producers of culture and that women are synonymous with nature and are therefore objects, subjects and products to be dominated by the heteropatriarchal gaze, Kruger’s searing, defiant and radical work opens our eyes and minds to the possibility of a third way, a new mode of being in our womanist bodies, freed from the shackles of masculine cultural imperialism while embracing non-separability from our ecological community.’

Cis-heteropatriarchal, as in:

‘Today, with climate catastrophe breathing ever more oppressively down our necks (egged on, of course, by the murderous white-supremacist, colonial and cis-heteropatriarchal systems that are its enablers), dealing with these questions seems all the more pressing.’

Other-than-human as an adjectival phrase as in ‘other-than-human entities’, ‘other-than-human organisms’, ‘other-than-human habitats’, ‘other-than-human communities’ and so on.

Raced, as in:

‘Understanding the body as situated, raced, gendered and sexed is not a novel idea, but the muscular geographies of petropolitics, and the populist narratives of masculinity and extraction, are rarely attended to as subjective geosocial practices that need to be undone before new earth geographies can take hold.’

Or:

‘As Esperanza makes clear, exploitation within these geophysics of extraction is intersectional, that is, it is raced and gendered. In the mine, race and gender intersect as a stratigraphic relation that becomes a mode of governance.’

Extractivism, as in:

‘These interventions gesture towards a broader understanding of how extraction – rather than extractivism, which becomes a specifically geologically-inflected formation – functions as an ideological undercurrent to colonial dispossession, racial subjection and gendered violence.’

Or:

‘I am, first, reminded not to draw easy – and, as [curator Lindsay] Nixon emphasises, colonising – equivalences between Indigenous women’s and nonbinary people’s struggles for land and life, and the movements that have expressed, in various ways, my own situated feminist and queer opposition to capitalism, colonialism, militarism and extractivism, which began in the 1980s and continues, albeit in much-changed form, into the present.’

Masculinism, as in:

‘Ecofeminist scholars have long critiqued feminised constructions of “nature” while challenging patriarchy, the masculinism of capitalism, and colonial abuses against nature, women and marginalised communities.’

Phallogocentric as in:

‘Caycedo’s photographs of rivers and waterfalls are remixed into pulsating, fractal, perception-shifting images that invite the viewer to reflect on the fluidity of bodies of water, which consistently resist the phallogocentric logic of extraction.’

Speciesism, as in:

‘As Greta Gaard notes: “Most provocative is her [Carolyn Merchant]’s intersectional linkage of racism, speciesism, sexism, colonialism, capitalism, and the mechanistic model of science–nature via the historical co-occurrence of the racist and colonialist “voyages of discovery” that resulted in appropriating indigenous peoples, animals, and land.’

Survivance, as in:

‘[Zina Saro-Wiwa] asks complex questions about Ogoni survivance that are unique to the people and place and that resist incorporation into Eurowestern narratives of environmental and climate politics.’

Eurowestern, as in:

‘Extraction as abstraction works as a representational genre precisely because within a Eurowestern context we are visually trained in the colonial (then modernist) optics that present a disembodied, planimetric view from above.

Or:

‘In this same light, then, I must also make a clear distinction between the works in RE/SISTERS that echo and amplify the Chipko women’s embodied protests as part of a contemporary network of Indigenous feminist and nonbinary activisms, and a framework emerging from more current Eurowestern discursive formations that might fold these embodied actions into queer, trans or even multispecies feminist ecological projects.’

Positionality, as in:

‘This view demands of Eurowestern environmentalists, including ecofeminists, a deep reckoning with our own positionalities, philosophies and politics.’

Part 3. The exhibition

  • features about 250 works by 50 artists
  • includes work from emerging and established artists in the specific fields of photography, film and installation
  • after an initial introduction, is organised into six categories or themes

Introduction

‘RE/SISTERS surveys the relationship between gender and ecology to highlight the systemic links between the oppression of women and Black, trans and Indigenous communities, and the degradation of the planet. It comes at a time when gendered and racialised bodies are bending and mutating under the stresses and strains of planetary toxicity, rampant deforestation, species extinction, the privatisation of our common wealth, and the colonisation of the deep seas. RE/SISTERS shines a light on these harmful activities and underscores how, since the late 1960s, women and gender-nonconforming artists have resisted and protested the destruction of life on earth by recognising their planetary interconnectedness.

‘Emerging in the 1970s and 1980s, ecofeminism joined the dots between the intertwined oppressions of sexism, racism, colonialism, capitalism, and a relationship with nature shaped by science. Ecofeminist scholars have long critiqued feminised constructions of ‘nature’ while challenging patriarchal and colonial abuses against our planet, women and marginalised communities. Increasingly, feminist theorists recognise that there can be no gender justice without environmental justice, and ecofeminism is being reclaimed as a unifying platform that all women can rally behind.

‘Uniting film and photography by over 50 women and gender-nonconforming artists from across different decades, geographies, and aesthetic strategies, the exhibition reveals how a woman-centred vision of nature has been replaced by a mechanistic, patriarchal order organised around the exploitation of natural resources, alongside work of an activist nature that underscores how women are often at the forefront of advocating for and maintaining our shared earth.

‘Exploring the connections between gender and environmental justice as indivisible parts of a global struggle to address the power structures that threaten our ecosphere, the exhibition addresses the violent politics of extraction, creative acts of protest and resistance, the labour of ecological care, the entangled relationship between bodies and land, environmental racism and exclusion, and queerness and fluidity in the face of rigid social structures and hierarchies. Ultimately, RE/SISTERS acknowledges that women and other oppressed communities are at the core of these battlegrounds, not only as victims of dispossession, but also as comrades, as protagonists of the resistance.’

This is the first work in the exhibition:

Untitled (We won’t play nature to your culture) by Barbara Kruger

‘In Barbara Kruger’s seminal work “Untitled (We won’t play nature to your culture)” a close-cropped image, likely culled from a 1950s fashion magazine, shows a glamorous white woman lying against a grassy background with her eyes gently covered by leaves, entangling woman and nature in a symbiotic whole. With the woman’s face sandwiched between the title’s liberatory feminist message, which serves as a jarring reminder of women’s historical role in society, the work signals how women have been straitjacketed in the West by reductive Cartesian dualisms and dichotomies – culture/nature, male/female, mind/body – and a hierarchically ordered worldview. Directly refuting the freighted position that men are producers of culture and women are synonymous with nature and are therefore objects, subjects and products to be dominated by the heteropatriarchal gaze, Kruger’s searing, defiant and radical work opens our eyes and minds to the possibility of a third way, a new mode of being in our womanist bodies, freed from the shackles of masculine cultural imperialism while embracing non-separability from our ecological community.’

Untitled (We won’t play nature to your culture) by Barbara Kruger (1983) Courtesy of Glenstone Museum, Potomac, Maryland

Theme 1. Extractive Economies / Exploding Ecologies

‘Extractivism is the exploitation, removal or exhaustion of natural resources on a massive scale. Rural, coastal, riverine, and Indigenous communities are disproportionately impacted by mining and other extractive industries, resulting in severe negative consequences on local livelihoods, community cohesion and the environment. Women often face the worst impacts of a violent politics of such practices, and yet they are leading the resistance against extractivism and stepping outside of traditional gender roles to champion movements fighting these destructive tendencies.

 ‘Over the past century rivers, forests, deserts and other natural environments have been subject to multiple forms of extraction, domestication, enclosure, erasure and pollution on an unprecedented global scale. This has entailed the profound transformation of the flow of rivers and the disappearance of once lush, fertile land, raising questions about ecological justice for the communities that rely on these environments.

‘Through their work Carolina Caycedo, Sim Chi Yin, Mabe Bethonico, and Talo Havini survey the material impact of extractive activities on rivers and dams, from Colombia to Vietnam, that support both human and more-than-human life in their nourishing embrace.

‘Meanwhile Simryn Gill, Otobong Nkanga, Chloe Dewy Matthews, and Mary Mattingly investigate the effects of industrial scale mining on landscapes and communities, from Australia to Namibia. Ultimately the works gathered here consider how extractivism operates as a material process underpinned by a pervasive colonial-capitalist mindset towards the exploitation of disempowered bodies and land.’

From the series Caspian: The Elements by Chloe Dewe Matthews (2010)

‘From images of bodies coated in the prized, thick brown crude oil found in the semi-desert region of Azerbaijan, to worshippers on pilgrimage to Shakpak-Ata, believed to have been home to a goddess of fertility and womanhood, Chloe Dewe Matthews’s photographs of the countries that border the Caspian Sea bear witness to the sticky entanglement of their geologic material realities, industrial scale extraction, and the myths, folklore and traditions that have shaped the contours of their individual cultures.

‘Over the course of six years, Dewe Matthews travelled across Azerbaijan, Iran, Kazakhstsan, Russia and Turkmenistan, photographing the diversity of the region’s cultures, their unique connection to the land, and these countries’ ever-increasing economic reliance on global petropolitics, something that threatens to destroy and already fragile ecological landscape.

‘From dramatic images of the eternally burning gas crater known as the Door to Hell in the Karakum Desert in Turkmenistan to elaborate mausoleums built to service a generation newly rich on oil, Dewe Matthews’s striking series reminds the viewer of the ecological, corporeal and cultural cost of energy politics.’

Of this specific image:

‘A young woman bathes in crude oil at the sanatorium town of Naftalan. This ‘miracle oi’ is found exclusively in the semi-desert region of central Azerbaijan, and it is claimed that bathing in it for ten minutes a day has medicinal benefits.’

From the series Caspian: The Elements by Chloe Dewe Matthews (2010) Courtesy of the artist

Multiple clitoris by Carolina Caycedo (2016)

‘Part of her multidisciplinary project Be Dammed, which critiques the “mechanics of flow and control of dams and rivers” to address “the privatisation of waterways and the social and environmental impact of extractive, large-scale infrastructural projects”, Carolina Caycedo’s Water Portraits (2015 –) float across gallery spaces, suspended from ceilings and cascading along walls.

‘Printed on silk, cotton or canvas, Caycedo’s photographs of rivers and waterfalls are remixed into pulsating, fractal, perception-shifting images that invite the viewer to reflect on the fluidity of bodies of water, which resist the phallogocentric logic of extraction.

‘Ultimately, Caycedo’s work encourages us to view these bodies of water as life-sustaining, life-embracing, other-than-human living organisms and not just as resources for human extraction. A portrait of the water that powerfully carves through the long, narrow chasm known as Garganta del Diablo (Devil’s Throat) – a canyon in the Iguazú Falls, on the border between Argentina and Brazil – Caycedo’s vibrantly coloured Multiple Clitoris evokes the feminist, orgasmic energy of our “corporeally connected aqueous community”.’

Installation view of ‘Multiple clitoris’ by Carolina Caycedo (2016) (Photo by the author)

Theme 2. Mutation: Protest and Survive

‘Women have a long history of protesting ecological destruction – from creative acts of civil disobedience and non-violent protest to armed resistance and climate legislation. Pamela Singh’s photographs of the Chipko movement document women resisting the felling of trees in northern India, while Format Photographers and JEB (Joan E. Biren) captured the women-led anti-nuclear peace movements of the 1980s in the UK and US, respectively.

‘Susan Schuppli’s film reflects on the right of ice to remain cold, as advocated by the Inuk activist Sheila Watt-Cloutier. Offering insights into the connections between patriarchal domination and the violence perpetrated against women and nature, the works in this section highlight the intertwined relationship between the survival of women and the struggle to preserve nature and life on earth.

‘Critical of the term “revolution”, in 1974 the French ecofeminist Françoise D’Eaubonne proposed the term “mutation”, which, she argued, would enact a “great reversal” of man-centred power. This grand reversal of power does not imply a simple transfer of power from men to women, instead it suggests the radical “destruction of power” by women – the only group capable of executing a successful systemic change, one that could liberate women as well as the planet.

‘Artists such as LaToya Ruby Frazier, Format Photographers, JEB, Pamela Singh and Poulomi Basu explore how communities of women – from web weavers to tree huggers and water defenders – have joined forces to combat violence against their bodies and land.’

Greenham Common Women’s Peace Camp: Embrace the Base action 12/12/1982 by Maggie Murray

Greenham Common Women’s Peace Camp: Embrace the Base action 12/12/1982 by Maggie Murray (1982) © Maggie Murray / Format Photographers Archive at Bishopsgate Institute Courtesy of Bishopsgate Institute

Chipko Tree Huggers of the Himalayas #74 by Pamela Singh

‘Pamela Singh’s powerful black-and-white documentary photographs of the Chipko movement depict women from the villages of the Garhwal Hills in Himalayas in Uttarakhand, northern India, calmly and peacefully clinging onto and embracing trees to save them from state- and industry-sanctioned loggers. Positioning themselves as human shields, with their arms interlocked around tree trunks, the women of this successful nonviolent protest became emblematic of an international ecofeminist movement eager to showcase the subordination of women and nature by global multinationals while underscoring women’s environmental consciousness.

‘The women were directly impacted by the rampant deforestation, which led to a lack of firewood as well as water for drinking and irrigation; by successfully opposing the planned fate of the trees, the women gained control of the means of production and the resources necessary for their daily lives, demonstrating the entangled relationship between the material needs of the women and the necessity to protect nature from domination and oppression.’

Chipko Tree Huggers of the Himalayas #74 by Pamela Singh (1994) © Pamela Singh Courtesy of sepiaEYE

Cold Rights by Susan Schuppli (2020)

Theme 3. Earth Maintenance

‘The practice of earth maintenance and the labour of ecological care stand in direct opposition to the masculinist value system of the capitalist economy. In the late 1970s and early 80s, feminist artists such as Mierle Laderman Ukeles and Helène Aylon practiced earth care as a form of resistance, linking classed, racialised and gendered struggles to ecological justice.

‘Further, the works assembled here make clear the link between maintenance work in the domestic sphere, which was traditionally defined as “women’s work”, and the undervalued labour required to care for the planet.

‘From 1979 to 1980, Mierle Laderman Ukeles set out to make visible the overlooked yet fundamental work of New York’s sanitation workers, the caretakers of the city who repeatedly cleaned up the refuse and waste polluting its environment. Around the same time, Helène Aylon politicised earth care by gathering toxic soil from nuclear military sites, placing it inside pillowcases and carrying the soil to institutions of power in her “Earth Ambulance”.

‘Seeking new modes of earth maintenance and protest against the continuous exploitation of nature, through the mid-1990s Fern Shaffer performed private rituals at locations in need of healing. melanie bonajo’s film Nocturnal Gardening (2016), part of their series Night Soil Trilogy (2014 to 2016), positions women as agents of political and social change by studying how communities come together to forge alternative ways of living in harmony with the land. The audio installation The Grindmill Songs Project, from the People’s Archive of Rural India, brings into the gallery the collective singing of women from central India who are typically silenced while their daily existence is absorbed into a local and global system of value creation from which they do not benefit.’

A Draught of the Blue by Minerva Cuevas (2013)

Nine Year Ritual of Healing: April 9 1998 by Fern Shaffer

‘Over the course of nine years at locations across North America, Fern Shaffer performed private healing rituals at sites affected by the industrial-agricultural complex and impending extinction. Shaffer performed these self-designed spiritual performances at places including Big Sur, on California’s Pacific Coast; a cornfield outside Mineral Point in Wisconsin; on the summit of the Blue Ridge Mountain in Virginia; and at the Cache River basin in Illinois, among others. Photographed by her collaborator Othello Anderson in sequential images, Shaffer is pictured twisting and twirling in a handmade garment that conceals her bodily form and face, rejecting a human-centred and individualistic relationship to nature.’

Nine Year Ritual of Healing: April 9 1998 by Fern Shaffer (1998) Photo by Othello Anderson Courtesy of the artist

Theme 4. Performing Ground

‘For women artists in the 1970s and 80s, to locate the body as part of the natural world was to perform a highly politically charged act. At a time when even the countercultural “return” to nature was bound up in the discourse of patriarchy, picturing and performing the body as ecologically entangled carried with it radical feminist potential. Entwined, cocooned, or concealed, artists such as Laura Aguilar, Tee A. Corinne, Ana Mendieta, Fina Miralles, and Francesca Woodman blurred the boundaries between body and ground, undoing the distinction between human and more-than-human in their merging of animal, vegetal, and mineral. By deploying camouflage strategies, the artists gathered here resist demands for gendered and racialised bodies to be contained by settler–colonial politics or extractive logics, and rather forge mutual relationships with their environments.

‘To “perform ground” is to deliberately and strategically locate the self not merely in the world, but of it. It asks us to rethink established hierarchies of relations between the human and the more-than-human. In contrast with much Land art, which has staged large-scale and controlled interventions into the natural environment predominantly by men, the ecologically oriented works presented here by women artists place the body in communion with the land.

‘Judy Chicago, The Neo Naturists, and Xaviera Simmons heighten the visibility of their bodies in relation to the more-than-human world by painting themselves in vivid colours and patterns or using paint to critique racial stereotypes. In doing so, these artists explore how the representation of women and nature has always been an act entangled in history, power, and agency.’

Immolation from Women and Smoke, performed by Faith Wilding, photographed by Judy Chicago (1972)

‘In Immolation Chicago captures the performance artist Faith Wilding sitting cross-legged in the desert, enveloped in orange smoke. This work referenced the ongoing Vietnam War, the self-immolation of Buddhist monks, and similar acts by people in the United States, who were setting themselves alight to protest the war and advocate for peace, while the orange smoke alludes to Agent Orange, the herbicide that was sprayed to devastating effect in Vietnam.’

Immolation from Women and Smoke. Fireworks performance Performed by Faith Wilding in the California Desert by Judy Chicago (1972) © Judy Chicago/Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York Photo courtesy of Through the Flower Archives Courtesy of the artist; Salon 94, New York; and Jessica Silverman Gallery, San Francisco

The Body Covered with Straw by Fina Miralles (1975)

‘Fina Miralles’s conceptual photo-performance works from the 1970s embody a return to a profound relationship with nature. As she wrote in 1983 following a transformative five-month journey travelling through Argentina, Bolivia and Peru: “I am abandoning bourgeois culture and embracing Indigenous culture. The World Soul, Mother Earth and the protective and creative Pachamama.”

‘Read through this lens, Miralles’s series Relating the Body and Natural Elements, in which the artist cocoons herself in straw, as seen here, or surrenders her body to sand or grass until she disappears, her body merging with the land, illustrates Donna Haraway’s concept of “becoming with” and offers a metaphysics grounded in connection, challenging the illusion of separation – the erroneous belief that it is somehow possible to exempt ourselves from earth’s ecological community.’

Relationship: The Body’s Relationship with Natural Elements. The Body Covered with Straw by Fina Miralles (1975) Courtesy of MACBA

Nature Self-Portrait #5 by Laura Aguilar (1996)

‘For Laura Aguilar, photography was instrumental in visualising her identity, and in the mid-1990s she began creating powerful black-and-white nude self-portraits in nature. In contrast to the heteropatriarchal settler-colonial tradition of landscape photography, Aguila’s portraiture homes in on her identity as a large-bodied, working class, queer Chicana woman. Mirroring the natural forms of the rocky desert landscape of the American Southwest, in her Nature Self-portrait series, Aguilar inserts herself into a “racially stratified landscape” to become a boulder or perform as a tree.

‘As Macarena Gomez-Barris notes, Aguilar seems to want us to “trespass into the territory that feminists have long considered taboo by considering a profound relationship between the body and territory, one that provides a possibility for ecology of being in relation to the natural world. In that sense, her self-portraits provide a way to foreground modes of seeing that move away from capitalism, property and labour altogether, into a more unifying relationality that allows for haptic and sensuous relations with the natural world.”

‘Ultimately, by affiliating her body with the natural beauty of the landscape, Aguilar’s work both empowers and transcends the various categories of her identification.’

Of this specific photo:

‘In these works, Aguilar photographs herself resting beside large boulders that seem to echo her curvaceous bodily form. Facing away from the camera, and folding inward, her body emulates the cracks and dents of the boulders while the shadows cast from her body intensify the affinity with the stones before her. In a sense she has “grounded” herself in a landscape that oscillates with “the largeness of her own body”.’

Nature Self-Portrait #5 by Laura Aguilar (1996) © Laura Aguilar Trust of 2016

Isis in the Woods by Tee A. Corinne (1986)

The Isis series photoshop large close-ups of a human vulva into traditional landscape compositions creating surreal and disturbing juxtapositions.

Isis in the Woods by Tee Corinne (1986)

Theme 5. Reclaiming the Commons

‘Reclaiming the Commons considers the power dynamics of capitalist land ownership, environmental racism, and environmental memory, while reflecting on who has access to our common land, who owns the land and how earth-beings – both human and more-than-human – move through our increasingly enclosed natural world. Notions of ‘the commons’ are grounded in forms of egalitarian land stewardship in which members of a community have access to common land for pasturing animals, growing crops, and foraging, with feminists arguing that the commons are also social and economic sites that are crucial for female empowerment.

‘Questions of access to land are considered in Fay Godwin’s photographic series Our Forbidden Land (1990), which tracks how the long history of enclosures in Britain has shaped a sinister landscape in which fields and pathways are emptied of people through physical barriers, legal measures, and acts of dispossession. Diana Thater’s work RARE (2008) investigates the effects of enclosures from an interspecies perspective, focusing on the disappearing habitats of endangered species in the iSimangaliso Wetland Park in KwaZulu-Natal, South Africa. In Al río/To the River (2016 to 2022), Zoe Leonard uses photography to testify to the weaponisation of landscapes through the transformation of waterways such as the Río Bravo/Rio Grande from a source of life and means of migration to a militarised border.

‘Environmental racism and memory are explored in the work of Ingrid Pollard, Dionne Lee, Mónica de Miranda, and Xaviera Simmons, who variously interrogate the racialised histories of settler–colonial and plantation landscapes. Their photographs – which are often manipulated with embroidery, collage, hand-tinting, and more – call into question the heteropatriarchal tradition of landscape photography and draw attention to the entwined struggles of decolonisation and the healing of our planet.’

Karikpo Pipeline by Zina Saro-Wiwa

Theme 6. Liquid Bodies

‘Liquid Bodies explores the relationships between the human cultures of gender and sexuality and the world of water. The works assembled here imagine a relationship between human animals and the non-human world that rejects the dualisms of ‘natural and unnatural’, ‘alive and not alive’, or ‘human and non-human’ – colonial ways of seeing that divide the world into humans and everything else. Rather, the artists in this section start from a simple point of departure: we, too, are water. They look to the potential of this natural resource to destabilise a binary sense of gender and the categorisation of the world into neat taxonomies that shape conventional Western ideas of the human experience.

‘Ideas of watery immersion, submersion, and transformation unite the work of Nadia Huggins, Anne Duk Hee Jordan, Josèfa Ntjam, Ada M. Patterson, and Uýra. Cross-species becoming is explored in the Indigenous queer artist Uýra’s arresting photo-performances, in which the artist fuses with Amazonian plants, creating what she describes as hybrids of human, animal, and plant. Nadia Huggins’ striking self-portraits depict her becoming one with the corals that hug the coast of her Caribbean home. Playing out in the vast continuum of oceanic space, Anne Duk Hee Jordan’s film Ziggy and the Starfish (2018) depicts marine life as powerfully sensual. Bobbing along to a soundtrack culled from vintage erotic films and underwater sounds, it considers the porous boundaries of multispecies kinship that is presented as endlessly subversive. Colonial, mythic, and queer histories of water are further addressed in Josèfa Ntjam’s installation that considers Black being in the afterlives of Atlantic slaver.’

Ziggy and the Starfish by Anne Duk Hee Jordan (2018)

‘Taking its name from Ziggy Stardust, the androgynous, extraterrestrial rock star persona that musician David Bowie personified in the early 1970s , Anne Duk Hee Jordan’s sculptural video environment that houses the film Ziggy and the Starfish (2018) celebrates the fluidity of marine sexuality. The film pictures the sexual exploits of various ocean creatures with an exuberance and playful excitement, recalling the earlier work of the French photographer and filmmaker of marine life, Jean Painlevé. The effects of human-made climate change on the hydrosphere have become a key factor impacting the reproductive lives of marine animals, and by focusing on this aspect of the ecosphere Jordan underscores our deep entwinement with our fellow earthly inhabitants. In response to the present ecological crisis, the work offers a portal into the vivid world of our nonhuman cohabitors and looks to their colourful erotic lives as an example of how not only to think against binary dualisms, but to desire the seductively plural.’

Looking for ‘Looking for Langston’ by Ada M. Patterson (2021)

‘Looking for “Looking for Langston” by Ada M. Patterson is both inspired by and directly references Isaac Julien’s eponymous 1989 film, which offers a meditation on the life of the queer poet Langston Hughes and the wider cultural scene of the Harlem Renaissance in 1920s New York. As the title of the work suggests, Patterson, whose quest to learn more about the film ended in failure, constructs her own response that borrows from Hughes’s poetic imaginary as well as fragments she’s gleaned about Julien’s film. The result is a surreal and phantasmagoric exploration of Blackness and desire, using symbols such as the sailor and the sea to explore the fluidity of queerness. Patterson’s film also incorporates allusions to the histories of colonialism extant not only in Barbados (the artist’s birthplace and where this film was mostly shot) but also in Hughes’s United States and Julien’s United Kingdom. The film pays homage to these forebears, connected through oceanic bodies, legacies of Blackness and queerness, and the forever speculative pursuit of desire.’

Looking for ‘Looking for Langston’ by Ada M. Patterson (2021) Courtesy of Maria Korolevskaya and Copperfield

Mud by Uýra (2018)

‘Uýra is an indigenous artist, biologist and educator from Brazil who works in and around the riverine communities of the Amazon region. In these photo-performances, Uýra transforms into multi-species characters, fluidly merging the human and non-human by adorning herself with organic matter. Borrowing from the aesthetic language of drag, and its ability to disrupt the stasis of gender-normativity, Uýra exuberantly shows how other binaries, such as the one between human and nature, can also be understood to be fluid states that are performatively constructed. As an educator, Uýra also uses her works as pedagogical tools to uncover different forms of knowledge about the land that have been suppressed by the logic of Western extractive capitalism. In doing so, the works call for a material and spiritual restoration of the ravaged ecologies to which we belong.’

Lama (Mud) by Uýra (2018) Courtesy of the artist

Part 4. Participating artists

The curators claim that ‘at its core, the exhibition seeks to platform the work of artists from the Global South and Indigenous communities’, but does it? Here’s a full list of the contributors in alphabetical order:

  • Laura Aguilar (US)
  • Hélène Aylon (US)
  • Poulomi Basu (India)
  • Mabe Bethônico (Brazil)
  • JEB (Joan E Biren) (US)
  • melanie bonajo (The Netherlands)
  • Carolina Caycedo (Columbia)
  • Judy Chicago (US)
  • Tee Corinne (US)
  • Minerva Cuevas (Mexico)
  • Agnes Denes (US)
  • FLAR (Feminist Land Art Retreat) (US)
  • Format Photography (UK)
  • LaToya Ruby Frazier (US)
  • Gauri Gill (India)
  • Simryn Gill (Malaysia)
  • Fay Godwin (UK)
  • Laura Grisi (Italy)
  • Barbara Hammer (US)
  • Taloi Havini (Bougainville / Australia)
  • Nadia Huggins (St Vincent & the Grenadines)
  • Anne Duk Hee Jordan (Korea/Germany)
  • Barbara Kruger (US)
  • Dionne Lee (US)
  • Zoe Leonard (US)
  • Chloe Dewe Mathews (UK)
  • Mary Mattingly (US)
  • Ana Mendieta (Cuba)
  • Fina Miralles (Spain)
  • Mónica de Miranda (Angola/Portugal)
  • Neo Naturists (Christine Binnie / Jennifer Binnie / Wilma Johnson) (UK)
  • Otobong Nkanga (Nigeria)
  • Josèfa Ntjam (France)
  • Ada M. Patterson (Jamaica)
  • PARI (People’s Archive of Rural India) (India)
  • Ingrid Pollard (UK)
  • Zina Saro-Wiwa (Nigeria)
  • Susan Schuppli (Canada)
  • Seneca Women’s Encampment for the Future of Peace and Justice (US)
  • Fern Shaffer (US)
  • Xaviera Simmons (US)
  • Pamela Singh (India)
  • Gurminder Sikand (India)
  • Uýra (Brazil)
  • Diana Thater (US)
  • Mierle Laderman Ukeles (US)
  • Andrea Kim Valdez (UK)
  • Francesca Woodman (US)
  • Sim Chi Yin (Singapore)

As you can see, in this list of 49 artists, 19 (39%) are from the USA, heartland of rapacious global capitalism. 5% of the global population; 40% of global art. And it’s always a pleasure to have Americans lecturing the rest of us about the environment. Compare with the American activists lecturing the visitor at the Hayward Gallery’s recent ‘Dear Earth’ exhibition. The full score is:

  • US – 19
  • UK – 6
  • India – 5
  • Brazil – 2
  • Nigeria – 2
  • Angola/Portugal – 1
  • Bougainville / Australia – 1
  • Canada – 1
  • Columbia – 1
  • Cuba – 1
  • France – 1
  • Italy – 1
  • Korea/Germany – 1
  • Malaysia – 1
  • Mexico – 1
  • The Netherlands – 1
  • Singapore – 1
  • Spain – 1
  • St Vincent & the Grenadines – 1

US and UK participants number 25 or just over half the total. If you add in another 5 or 6 from Canada, Australia and Europe that makes roughly 30 out of 49. Whether having 60% of the contributors come from Europe and America equals platforming ‘the work of artists from the Global South and Indigenous communities’ is open to question.

Part 5. Other environmental art reviews

Artists have been worrying about the environment for decades but it’s only recently that exhibitions on the subject have broken through into the mainstream i.e. the big London galleries. RE/SISTERS is just the latest of a clutch of high profile eco-art exhibitions in London:

There is, as you might expect, some overlap: the work of Agnes Denes appears in both Dear Earth and RE/SISTERS, specifically her Agnes Denes’s ‘iconic’ 1982 work ‘Wheatfield: A Confrontation’, where she planted 8,000 square meters of wheat at Battery Park Landfill within sight of the Twin Towers in New York. I reviewed Mónica de Miranda’s recent exhibition at Autograph ABP. Here she’s represented by a piece I liked, Salt Island, five photographs into which have been sewn fine green threads hanging from the surface like the lianas of a tropical forest. They feel genuinely ‘chill’ as my son would say.

Installation view of ‘Salt Island’ by Mónica de Miranda. What you can’t see is the gossamer-fine green silk threads dangling from the foliage

What makes this exhibition sharply and distinctively different from the Hayward and Royal Academy shows is the fierce and unforgiving feminism which colours every aspect of it and every word of every caption.

Part 6. My responses

It’s a huge exhibition. The more you study it, the bigger and wider, the more confrontational or thought-provoking the issues become.

As to the actual subjects and images, a lot of these are very familiar: the ravages of open-cast mining, the oil spills which destroy rivers and lakes, the destruction of the rainforests, I feel like I’ve been reading about these all my life. How me and my friends thrilled to the film ‘Koyaanisqatsi’ with its vision of a world being heedlessly destroyed, and that was back in 1982!

In fact there are two ways of processing a huge, text-heavy like this. Or maybe three. 1) One is to read the captions and focus on the environmental and pollution aspect. On this perspective, although I felt I knew about a lot of the topics already – knew about the destructive effects of oil and mining, that we’re killing the oceans, I knew young women who actually took part in the Greenham Common protests, and so on. On the other hand, I’d never heard about the very bad effects of sand extraction documented by Sim Chi Yin, and about many of the other resistance movements in the developing world, such as the People’s Liberation Guerrilla Army in India.

2) Second way is to react to the hyper-feminism of the captions, nod approvingly, rise to the bait, or be immediately struck by the illogic or contradictions of various parts of it. Rather than comment, I’ve quoted the wall captions at such great length so you can make up your own mind.

3) Third way is like my friend Andrew the gay designer. He prides himself on rarely if ever reading the wall captions at any exhibition, and instead reacting purely to the works themselves, liking them, disliking them (or making a note to pinch good ideas). Andrew avoids the captions because they almost always create a barrier between visitors and works. More and more often these days, as in this exhibition, they dispense a polemical discourse designed to coerce you into responding to all the works in an officially approved and constraining way. He hates that.

In contrast, I read every single caption, was appalled by a whole series of terrible environmental degradations they described, was irritated by the sanctimonious and misandric tone of most of them, and generally let my head be filled up with caption clutter which stopped me seeing what was actually in front of me. I need to be more like Andrew: stop reading the captions – just respond to the work.

Feminist discourse

Feel free to skip this bit. I’m not even 100% sure I completely believe what I’m writing. I’m just trying to work through my responses to the very strong feminist point of view shouting from every caption on every wall of this show:

In my review of Women, Art and Society by Whitney Chadwick (2012) I develop a sustained critique of this feminist theory way of thinking and writing. In brief, it feels like feminism has personally empowered hundreds and hundreds of millions and girls and women to feel more empowered and confident in their lives, which is an unqualified good thing. But that at the same time, on a purely political level, a weird dialectic is playing out in which feminist discourse – which has overrun and saturates all academic study of the humanities, art studies, media studies, film studies, feminist, gender and queer studies, history, literature etc etc, as it becomes more powerful, dense with theory and new terminology – has, at the same time and quite obviously, withdrawn from the real world. It has become the discourse of an academic elite, or of an intensely committed but very restricted membership.

Inside this group of university-educated middle-class women, of professors and lecturers of feminist studies, gender studies, queer studies and of generations of their students who have gone out into the world to make films, make art, make documentaries, write novels, become journalists and commentators – the zeal of the committed to their cause is matched only by the dazzling virtuosity of their jargon and the fierce extremity of their beliefs (which is why I’ve quoted the wall captions at such length, so you can see what I’m talking about).

Inside the cause, once you’ve accepted its basic premises (‘women’ are wonderful and have nothing to do with capitalism or environmental destruction; all men are toxic, are entirely responsible for the industrial revolution, for capitalism and raping the planet, are perpetrators of everyday sexism, sexual harassment, sexual abuse, mansplaining, manspreading, the manosphere etc etc) then everything makes sense and every event in the news, every word said by any man anywhere, every news story about some powerful man abusing his position, confirms this self-reinforcing worldview.

And the sustained bombardment of this exhibition’s captions work hard to cajole or coerce you into this looking glass world where all men are toxic capitalists and all women are heroic artists and activists.

It’s only when you step outside the bubble and shake your head, pinch yourself and awake from the dream, that you return to the real world, a world in which women in positions of supreme power are nothing like the portrait of ‘women’ created by the exhibition. Not long ago Liz Truss was Prime Minister of the UK and Priti Patel was Home Secretary. Today Suella Braverman is Home Secretary and the UK Environment Secretary is Thérèse Coffey. Both have acquiesced in Rishi Sunak’s rolling back of climate commitments. At least 5 million women voted for Boris Johnson’s Conservative Party, around 7 million women voted for Brexit. All this without going into women who voted for Donald Trump in the US. It’s a lovely statistic, though contested, that some 53% of white women voted for Trump in the 2016 Presidential election.

The precise figures don’t particularly matter. I’m just making the obvious point about the drastic disconnect between the rhetoric of this exhibition, and of so much feminist rhetoric, which:

  • claims to speak for all women, which uses the word ‘women’ as if all women agree with radical feminism, when they quite obviously do not
  • and claims that radical feminists are making ‘radical’ changes to the world, reshaping the world, overthrowing the cis-heteropatriarchy and so on when, in the real actual world that we live in, the exact opposite is happening; the forces of anti-feminism seem to be triumphing everywhere

Denying responsibility

Deep down, I think feminist exhibitions like this and the rhetoric which accompanies them (not the actual artists and certainly not the often brave and resourceful activists whose efforts shine through the miasma of jargon) are really about trying to escape blame, trying to place yourself on the side of the saints and martyrs, identifying with the nobility and righteousness of the cause.

After all, if you can blame everything terrible in the world on masculinist capitalism, on toxic masculinity, on extractivism and phallogocentrism, on the patriarchy, and on the heteropatriarchy and on the cis-heteropatriarchy, then you can escape blaming yourself.

(As a digression, note the inflation in terminology. The term ‘patriarchy’ no longer gives members of the tribe the same psychological kick that it used to, so it’s been escalated to become the ‘heteropatriarchy’ (i.e. rule of straight men); but maybe that is no longer enough to get the same kick and buzz so the dose has been increased to cis-heteropatriarchy. I understand that the people who coined these terms would say they are needed to the capture new insights into non-binary and gender-fluid identities of the younger generation. Nonetheless, at the same time, my view is that the the clear rhetorical escalation epitomised by the expansion of the original boo word ‘patriarchy’, also function as a form of magic: this increasingly hyperbolic jargon comes more and more to resemble chants and incantations designed to bind together the faithful and ward off the outside world. In this context, of global ecocide, to resist acceptance of your own responsibility; they are spells to help you deny that you too are completely embedded within the extractive capitalist economy.)

The exhibition’s section about extractivism tells us that the US military is the largest user of precious metals such as cobalt which are mined by virtual slave labour with disastrous ecological consequences in places like the Congo. Fine. But nowhere does it mention the well-known fact that the same kinds of rare metals, also ravaged out of the earth by forced labour in the poorest places, are also used in domestic smart phones, laptops, Alexa boxes and all the other digital accoutrements of modern life.

If you have a smart phone in your hand – and everyone I saw going round this exhibition did have a smart phone in their hand – then you’re guilty, you’re part of the extractive economy. No amount of railing against the patriarchy, or the heteropatriarchy, or the cis-heteropatriarchy, gets you off the hook.

My personal view is that all of us in ‘the West’, men and women, are guilty and that we should start from this frank acknowledgement of our mutual responsibility. The streams of complex jargon-laden discourse reeling at the visitor from every direction are, in my opinion, designed to hide this one fundamental truth because they continually exonerate ‘women’ i.e. half the population, as in some way magically not responsible. If all women are artists and activists resisting the destruction, then it follows that no women can be to blame.

My position is that all of us, men as well as women, are in the same boat, facing the same peril, and must work together to try and find solutions. Privileging all women and denigrating all men i.e. sowing division and recrimination, feels like the last thing we need to be doing right now. We should be building bridges and finding allies and forming coalitions to try and force major change.

In my view, everyone in the western world needs to drastically alter their lives in order to reduce their carbon footprint and to keep their involvement in environmental destruction to an absolute minimum. That means not having a car, never flying again, having few if any digital gizmos, as well as going vegetarian, if possible dairy free and vegan, and try to reorganise your finances to support environmentally friendly banks, insurance and pension companies. The same prospectus outlined by Christiana Figueres 5 or 6 years ago. On a political front, lobby your council or MP to take green and environmentally friendly policies wherever possible. Vote for the parties most likely to carry out green policies, which in the UK, at the next election, means Labour, since any Green vote risks splitting the anti-Conservative vote, as at the recent Uxbridge by-election.

The mindset of an exhibition like this which tells all its female visitors that all the bad stuff can be blamed on men, and that simply being a woman automatically qualifies you for membership of the sisterhood of artists and activists, allows you to deny your guilt and your complicity in the extractivist systems this exhibition so vividly depicts.

Revolutionary rhetoric without the revolution

To take another angle, so much of this kind of rhetoric, the ‘radical’ rhetoric shouting from every picture caption, is just right-on revolutionary posing without the slightest intention of doing anything ‘revolutionary’.

In this respect hardly anything has changed since Tom Wolfe’s 1970 essay ‘Radical chic’ satirised the haute bourgeoisie gathered for an evening at Leonard Bernstein’s New York apartment to lionise members of the revolutionary Black Panther Party, who were simply too too adorable for words! So radical, darling.

Something similar can be felt here in texts which flirt with the rhetoric of revolution without the slightest intention of upsetting the cosy worlds of the Barbican Friends and Corporate Sponsors who have gathered to cheer this marvellous exhibition and applaud the curators for their wonderful work.

This thought occurred at the moments when the texts occasionally reverted to pure, old school Marxist rhetoric, revealing the ancient communist assumptions which underpin them. Thus the catalogue, when describing the achievement of the tree huggers of Chipko, praises them for regaining ‘control of the means of production’.

This is of course a straight quote from The Communist Manifesto and the millions of communist books, pamphlets, lectures which repeated it all around the world for the subsequent 140 years (1848 to 1988) with, in the end, zero effect. How many countries in the world currently implement the Marxist-Leninist social and economic policies of which this used to be a central plank? None.

The exhibit which most repeatedly invokes the word ‘revolutionary’ is the series of Poulomi Basu’s photographs which capture (very vividly) members of the People’s Liberation Guerrilla Army who are actually fighting, with actual guns, against the activities of mining companies in south central India and the Indian security forces. They describe themselves as a revolutionary force. A panel in the catalogue is devoted to ‘Comrade Matta Rattakka’ who died a ‘martyr’ to the cause. This is the rhetoric of the old Soviet Union and its satellites and Cold War guerrilla movements. These are phrases I haven’t read, delivered straight, with no irony, for decades.

Untitled from the series Centralia (2010 to 2020) by Poulomi Basu

On one level Basu’s work is gripping photojournalism of a real conflict. But its inclusion in this exhibition incorporates it into what is, in practice, revolutionary chic without the slightest possibility of a revolution. Because revolutions are difficult, violent and, even if they initially triumph, we now know, over the long term, degrade and collapse.

What the godly revolution in Britain in the 1640s and the French revolution in the 1790s and the Russian revolution in the 1910s and the Iranian revolution in the 1970s all demonstrated is that it’s relatively easy to overthrow a tyrannical regime and seize power. But it is then fiendishly difficult, if not impossible, to impose your revolutionary values on the vast majority of the population who don’t share them and never will share them. On the whole, revolutions can only it can only be carried forward with large scale repression of and execution of the classes which oppose you, more often than not, the bien-pensant liberal bourgeoisie. The liberals tend to be first up against the wall in any revolution. I.e. exactly the kind of people who attend exhibitions about revolutions.

The beautiful thing, for its exponents and their followers, about this kind of feminist rhetoric about ‘revolutions’ and overthrowing masculinism and abolishing the patriarchy and rebelling against the military-industrial complex, the summaries of Françoise D’Eaubonne’s theory of a ‘great reversal’ of man-centred power, and countless thousands of variations on the theme – the great thing about it is that they will never happen.

Feminists get to thrill in the writing or reading of extensive urgent texts bravely declaring radical change and revolutionary overthrow and interrogating gender stereotypes and all the rest of it, all the time confident in the knowledge that any actual revolution, any genuinely transformative overthrow of the existing structures of power, won’t actually ever happen.

It’s bourgeois play acting. It’s bourgeois posing with the rhetoric of ‘revolution’ with absolutely no intention of ever carrying it out. Because if anything like it ever was carried out, the revolutionary feminists would make the same discovery as the Puritans in the 1640s, the Jacobins in the 1790s, the Bolsheviks in the 1920s and the Party of God in the 1980s, that the majority of the population they would find themselves governing don’t share your values and don’t want your revolution.

That’s what I mean by saying that this kind of bourgeois feminism exists in an academic dreamland, will never be tested against reality, and so its followers will be able to live their entire lives without ever having to experience the disillusions of real power, instead enjoying a pleasing sense of righteousness to the end of their days.

Non humans

The exhibition does have interesting things to say about non-humans. All of these struck me as being more interesting and more true than just blaming men for everything. Quite obviously humans of all sexes are the problem. The world would be better off without us and, at moments in the show, this basic truth peeped through, struggling against the curators’ aim of redeeming and absolving women. But no humans are free of guilt. Eurowestern liberals like the curators like to fetishise the lifestyles of Indigenous peoples, whether in the Amazon or Australia, but they kill animals, they burn the bush, they poo in the rivers, there are just a lot, lot fewer of them. Given modern medicine to help them survive, they also breed quickly, overfill their ecosystems, start degrading everything. By trying to exculpate and valorise women the exhibition seeks to hide the bleaker truth: If you want to overthrow something, you shouldn’t be bothering with the cis-heteropatriarchy, you should be trying to overthrow the tyranny of Homo sapiens over all the organisms of the world.

Saving the environment?

Lastly, do exhibitions like this do anything at all for ‘the environment’? No. Like all art exhibitions, they preach to the converted, to the white liberal bourgeois bien-pensant converted who I saw strolling round snapping everything with their latest model camera-phones, white, middle-aged, university-educated women who are already signed up to ‘the revolution’, chat confidently about the complete transformation of masculinist society, discuss how ghastly cis-heteropatriarchal capitalism is, before rushing off to their next viewing, clutching their phones and their designer bags, before catching the plane back to New York.

At the press launch I heard the American accents of some of the American artists and journalists who’d flown over to cover it. Maybe when they drive their big American cars or take their plane trips to Australia or Amazonia, planet earth realises that they’re feminist flyers and drivers and so their carbon dioxide, magically, doesn’t count. In my opinion we have to stop, we all have to stop, men, women and every other gender. The era of cheap foreign holidays and long road trips, of commuting by car and taking weekend city breaks to the continent, the era of new gizmos every Christmas, buying new clothes to be in the fashion, of steaks and burgers and unlimited meat, of vast hecatombs of slaughtered pigs and cattle and chickens taking up huge resources, pumped full of antibiotics, their chemical waste poisoning drinking water, the era of boundless mindless consumption is drawing to a close, even if most people haven’t realised it yet.

Well, I’ve given you enough visual and textual evidence. What do you think?


Related links

Related reviews

Women’s art book reviews

Fiasco: The American Military Adventure in Iraq by Thomas E. Ricks (2006)

Perhaps the worst war plan in American history.
(Fiasco: The American Military Adventure in Iraq, page 115)

‘It failed utterly.’
(Verdict of Marek Belka, Prime Minister of Poland which contributed troops to the coalition, describing the entire American project to invade and ‘liberate’ Iraq, p.347)

Bad assumptions

The US Army invaded Iraq on 20 March 2003. The moving forces behind the invasion – Vice President Dick Cheney, Secretary of Defence Donald Rumsfeld, Deputy Defence Secretary Paul Wolfowitz and Under Secretary of Defence for Policy, Douglas Feith – said the war would be over in a matter of months, would require the bare minimum number of troops and would pay for itself out of Iraq’s increased oil revenue. They based these conclusions on the assumptions that:

  1. large numbers of Iraqi security forces would be willing to change sides and help the occupiers
  2. the ‘international community’ would pick up a lot of the task of reconstruction, meaning other Western countries, NGOs etc
  3. a provisional Iraqi government would spring into being within months which the US could hand interim authority over to i.e.  they could stop being responsible for everything
  4. the war would not cost much ($1.7 billion, the head of the US Agency for International development, Andrew Natsios, told Ted Koppel on the Nightline TV show, p.109) and this would all be paid for out of the new democratic and grateful Iraqi government’s oil revenues

All four of these premises, along with most of the other assumptions made by the invasion’s planners, turned out to be completely fallacious. To take one very specific example, the advance units of the American Army were told to expect the Iraqi forces they faced to quickly surrender or maybe even desert to them. In the event, none did. Everything else was like that – completely wrong and unexpected.

The US-led invasion was launched recklessly, with a flawed plan for war and a worse approach to occupation. (p.3)

There were plenty of critics who warned of the probable consequences:

  • Michael O’Hanlon from the Brookings Institute
  • Pentagon official Alina Romanowski (p.65)
  • Marine Corps General Anthony Zinni (p.51)
  • a conference of 70 national security and Middle East experts (p.72)
  • General ‘Stormin” Norman Schwartzkopf (p.82)
  • Air Force strategist Colonel John Warden (p.108)
  • defence consultant Gary Anderson (p.137)

and plenty of others, predicted that the Americans would be entering an ethnic and religious minefield and get drawn into a country which was likely to collapse and split along ethnic or religious lines, requiring US forces to be there for 5 years or more. All correct predictions, all ignored or rubbished by the hawks, Cheney, Rumsfeld, Wolfowitz, Feith.

More than one critic assigns the consistent errors of the neo-con Republican hawks to ‘intellectual arrogance’ (p.99). Like Liz Truss and Kwazi Kwarteng, they knew they were right and all the critics, all the academics, regional experts, and senior army officers were dismissed as unduly negative, lacking vision, enemies of growth or America, anti-patriotic pessimists. ‘Rumsfeld’s self-confident stubbornness made him a big part of the problem’ (p.169).

They think it’s all over

The most profound mistake was thinking that once they had seized Baghdad, the Americans would have won the war. In fact, as they quickly found out, it was only the start of the conflict. The Rumsfeld-Wolfowitz clique thought they would be greeted like an army of liberation, like the Allied armies who liberated France in 1944. Instead, almost all Iraqis quickly came to regard them as an army of occupation, and many of the soldiers behaved like one, bullying, abusing and threatening all the locals they met. Aide to Rumsfeld, Lawrence Di Rita, told the press that US forces would be in Iraq for 120 days, tops (p.106). In fact US forces were to remain in Iraq for over 8 years.

No phase IV plan

And here’s where the greatest fiasco occurred. The Americans had no plan for what to do once they had overthrown Saddam Hussein, no planning at all for what was called, in military terms, Phase IV of the invasion i.e. the aftermath (p.151). Ricks, with his typically forensic and cerebral approach, cites two of the most famous theorists of war on just this subject:

  • The first requirement in war is not to take the first step without considering the last (Karl von Clausewitz)
  • To win victory is easy; to preserve its fruits, difficult (Sun Tzu) (p.59)

For the crucial months of April, May and June 2003, after they had won the actual war, the Americans delayed and prevaricated while they tried to cobble together a plan for the reconstruction of the country and installation of interim government. It was, as Captain David Chastain, a 3rd Infantry Division officer put it, ‘a clusterfuck’ of chaos (p.151).

President Bush realised the need for some kind of post-war administration late in the day and, just a month before the invasion, appointed retired Lieutenant General Jay Garner to post of Director of the hurriedly cobbled together Office for Reconstruction and Humanitarian Assistance for Iraq (ORHA).

In the event Garner’s term in post lasted less than a month, from 21 April to his abrupt replacement by L. Paul Bremer on 11 May. In fact the entire ORHA was abruptly closed down and replaced by another hastily cobbled organisation, the Coalition Provisional Authority (CPA). Neither ORHA nor CPA were properly staffed or organised, with new staffers being hired and flown out to Baghdad in a mad hurry, with minimum or zero qualifications, handed roles they were woefully inexperienced for, throughout the spring.

‘No clear strategy, very little detailed planning, poor communications, high personnel turnover, lots of young and inexperienced political appointees, no well-established business processes,’ (Colonel Ralph Hallenbeck who worked at the CPA, p.203)

Crucially – decisively – with no actual plan to hand, the Americans’ delay meant they lost the initiative, which passed over to the various types of religious, political and ethnic opposition groups or allowed these groups to come into existence and establish themselves. These groups seized abandoned government arms, organised, made plans, and commenced the ‘insurgency’ which was to bring havoc, violence and death across Iraq for the next 8 years.

Thomas E. Ricks

Thomas E. Ricks was a reporter for the Wall Street Journal for 17 years, latterly a specialist in the US military, until he joined the Washington Post in 2000 as senior Pentagon correspondent. His extremely detailed and thorough account of the invasion and its aftermath was published in 2006, three years into the painful and protracted unravelling of America’s plans.

Far from…

Far from being over in a few months with minimal casualties, the war in Iraq was to drag on until December 2011, lasting 8 years and nearly 9 months.

Paul Wolfowitz predicted the locals would welcome the Americans, there would be no ethnic fighting and that within a few months of victory, the troop numbers would be down to 34,000 (pages 97, 98 and 106). However, far from requiring a minimal army of 130,000 the troop numbers rose to a peak of 200,000 which most commentators still thought wasn’t enough. The Rand Corporation published a report claiming the task the US set itself would have required 500,000 troops. According to Army Central Command planner Colonel Agoglia, Wolfowitz suffered from ‘a complete and total lack of understanding’ of what was need to invade Iraq and create a new, independent state (p.128).

Far from costing a few billion dollars which would be paid for by the country’s own oil revenue, the US Congressional Budget Office has estimated the total cost of the war in Iraq to the United States will be around $1.9 trillion.

Legacy of the Gulf War

Many people thought Bush Jnr wanted to complete what his dad, George Bush Senior, began with his ejection of Saddam from Kuwait in 1991. Republicans and foreign policy hawks came to regret how the father ended the 100-hours war as soon as the Iraqi forces were expelled back onto Iraqi soil. Specially when Saddam went out of his way to prove what a bastard he was by massacring the Marsh Arabs who Bush Senior had encouraged to rise up against their dictator, and then turned his wrath on the Kurds in the north, who he drove from their towns and villages into the freezing mountains where many perished before the ‘international community’ stepped in to enforce a no-fly zone (Operation Northern Watch, p.13).

Throughout the 1990s the Allies maintained this no-fly zone despite Saddam’s policy of continually nagging and provoking them, and also enacted strong sanctions against the regime. He remained a thorn in the side of successive American administrations. Foreign policy hawks became obsessed with the idea that Saddam was moving heaven and earth to build facilities for creating weapons of mass destruction i.e. chemical, biological and nuclear weapons.

In response to these provocations and paranoia, in October 1998 removing the Iraqi government became official US foreign policy with the enactment of the Iraq Liberation Act. This followed the creation of an advocacy group of neo-conservative Republicans, the Project for a New American Century, set up in January 1998 to lobby then-President Clinton for regime change in Iraq. Members included Rumsfeld, Wolfowitz, Richard Armitage, future UN ambassador John Bolton and other hawks, who were to come into power when George W. Bush was elected president in November 2000.

Choosing to attack Iraq on a false prospectus

Hence, within days of the 9/11 attacks, President Bush and senior figures in his administration (vice-president Dick Cheney, Secretary of Defence Donald Rumsfeld) began soliciting opinions from State Department officials and the military about the feasibility of completing the job of getting rid of Saddam.

Little over a month after 9/11 the US attacked Afghanistan whose Taliban rulers had refused to surrender Osama bin Laden who had emerged as the culprit for the 9/11 attacks. But alongside the Afghan plan, a definitive assault on Saddam’s Iraq was being planned.

Throughout 2002 the administration ramped up the pressure with an escalating series of deadlines for Saddam to surrender his weapons of mass destruction, obey sanctions and so on. Saddam’s truculence and mishandling of UN weapons inspectors played with into the US hawks’ plans.

Colin Powell’s day of shame

Early in 2003, on 5 February, Bush sent Secretary of State Colin Powell to the UN to make America’s case, to present ‘evidence’ that Iraq was hiding unconventional weapons. His presentation to the UN was later shown to be wrong and misleading in every single detail (pages 90 to 93). The Americans were warned by British and other security services, at the time, that this ‘evidence’ was very flaky, based, for example, on the claims of an Iraqi emigrant living in Germany who later admitted having falsified his testimony (p.91). The monitoring efforts of the International Atomic Energy Agency had found no evidence of WMD at all – but the Bush administration ignored anything which stood in the way of their determination to overthrow Saddam.

The Bush White House case was based on the claims that a) there was a direct link between Saddam Hussein and al Qaeda and b) that Saddam had ‘weapons of mass destruction’ that posed a serious threat to the West. Whereas:

  • in 2004, the 9/11 Commission concluded there was no evidence of any relationship between Saddam’s regime and al-Qaeda
  • and no stockpiles of WMDs or active WMD program were ever found in Iraq (p.375)

Has any US president ever told such a pack of lies with such catastrophic consequences? Ricks doesn’t hold back.

  • Blame must lie foremost with President Bush himself, but his incompetence and arrogance are only part of the story. It takes more than one person to make a mess as big as Iraq. (p.4)
  • President Bush’s response to the growing violence in Iraq was even more painfully wrong than Rumsfeld’s. (p.172)

Ricks’s intelligence and authority

What makes Fiasco such a blistering record of the intellectual arrogance, blinkered ignorance, chaotic mismanagement, wishful thinking and stupidity which characterised the American invasion of Iraq is the supreme intelligence and incisive analysis Ricks deploys on every page. He is an extremely clever guy, a deep thinker, with the added huge advantage of managing to get pretty much all the key players, all the senior people at the State Department (America’s Foreign Office) and Pentagon (the military), to talk to him and give often scathing and bitterly critical insights into the chaos and mismanagement which operated at every level of the US administration.

But it wasn’t just the US government and key figures in the US army who made terrible mistakes and miscalculations. The press was shamefully complicit in this slack, badly planned wishful thinking. Ricks names and shames the cheerleaders for the invasion in the American press and TV, some of whom saw their careers destroyed for recklessly supporting the administration (Ricks singles out New York Times reporter Judith Miller for particular criticism, p.35).

And Congress pitifully failed in its duty to review the executive’s plans, especially war plans. Members of Congress were intimidated by the great wave of patriotic rhetoric flooding the airwaves. In the feverish mood after 9/11 Congress didn’t want to seem unpatriotic and so subjected the administrations plans to pitifully inadequate questioning, and failed in its duty of overseeing the Executive branch of government (p.88 and p.387). Fail fail fail.

Ricks subjects specific each of the main players, in the White House, State Department, Pentagon and Army to detailed and authoritative profiles and then withering analysis of their failures, which leave virtually none of their reputations intact.

General Tommy Franks, the man given overall charge of the invasion, was widely thought to have no grasp of strategy; he was a tactical, operations man incapable of seeing the big picture.

  • ‘[Franks] ran an extremely unhappy headquarters’ (p.33)
  • ‘the intellectually shoddy atmosphere that characterised war planning under Franks’ (p.34)

Thus it was that Franks fell in with Rumsfeld and Wolfowitz, who both continually demanded a smaller force, chipped away at the proposals, demanding that army commanders reduce their numbers to a size which was to prove completely inadequate for the task ahead. As late as April 28 Wolfowitz was insisting the Americans only needed the 135,000 troops they had so far deployed, even as the evidence came in that this was completely inadequate. Ricks’s description of the shambolic office run by Under Secretary of Defense for Policy, Douglas Jay Feith, beggars belief:

  • The owlish Feith was a management disaster who served as a bottleneck on decision making. (p.76)
  • ‘the dumbest fucking guy on the planet’ according to Tommy Franks (p.78)
  • ‘incredibly dangerous’, according to general Jay Garner (p.78)

Franks announced his retirement very soon after combat operations finished, on 22 May 2003. He was replaced by General Ricardo Sanchez who, according to the sources Ricks speaks to, struggled with the scope of the role. Lieutenant Colonel Christopher Holshek: ‘He was in over  his head. He was a fulfilment of the Peter principle’ (p.173).

‘Historians will remember Sanchez as the William Westmoreland of the Iraq War – the general who misunderstood the nature of the conflict he faced and thereby played into the enemy’s hands,’ retired army Colonel Andrew Bacevich (p.392)

Who would have suspected so many senior administration officials were so incompetent and divisive?

Strategy versus tactics

Quite apart from the riveting and mind-boggling stories on every page, two big concepts underpin Ricks’s account. One is the difference between strategy and tactics. He explains that to ascertain strategy you must ask four questions:

  1. who are we?
  2. what are we trying to do here?
  3. how will we do it?
  4. what resources and means do we need to do it?

Answering those questions completely and correctly gives you your strategy (p.127). Once you have established this, tried and tested it against the evidence, then you are in a position to start developing the tactics which you will apply in specific situations or areas which will all work towards achieving your overall goals.

Ricks shows in fascinating detail how the general in overall command of the war, Tommy Franks, was great at working out detailed tactics but completely failed to grasp the overall strategy, which was itself laughably unrealistic, the ambition not only to overthrow Saddam but to re-engineer the entire Middle East to suit America and Israel’s convenience. The result was that the US effort more closely resembled a coup in a banana republic than a deeply through-through, carefully worked out, large-scale, long-term plan to alter the politics of a crucial part of the globe (p.128).

The neo-conservative Republicans who drove the invasion thought there was no need for a phase IV because the Iraqi population would greet the Americans with flowers and kisses (p.96), Iraqi politicians would quickly set up their own government, and their army and police would manage the transformation of Iraq into a shiny new democracy. They were completely and utterly wrong (p.170).

The looting

Before the invasion phase of the war (19 March to 30 April) had even finished, Iraqi society began to fall apart. The TV cameras caught the pulling down of the massive statue of Saddam at the centre of Baghdad on 9 April 2003 (I remember watching it live on TV; it took ages). But even as they did so the epidemic of looting, burning and destruction of the country was beginning. The French, liberated from their Nazi occupiers carried on with their civic duties. The Iraqis, liberated from Saddam’s totalitarian rule, went mad with a spectacular outburst of civil disorder and chaos on the streets.

And did the Americans have the manpower to enforce security, law and order? No, because Rumsfeld and Wolfowitz and their creature at the Pentagon, Douglas Feith, and the many other true believers, had moved heaven and earth to have the smallest possible supply of boots on the ground.

Interviewed on TV Rumsfield famously dismissed the looting by saying freedom is messy (p.136). In other words, he was a cretin. He and his fellow believers didn’t realise that it was in those early days that America lost the respect of the nation they had conquered, that an entire people saw American soldiers standing by idly while ministry buildings were comprehensively sacks, looted and set on fire, criminal gangs roamed the streets, cars were hijacked, civilians kidnapped, women raped. Not my problem, said Rumsfeld.

Excellent at sending laser-directed bombs at infrastructure targets, the American Army turned out to be useless at enforcing law and order. Within days many Iraqis began to pine for the good old days under Saddam. At least under the tyrant the streets were safe to walk or drive through. It is vital for an invading force to gain the population’s trust and to display competence and command. During the orgy of looting the US forces lost all this and never regained it (p.136).

Mission accomplished?

On 1 May Bush made his Mission Accomplished speech aboard the USS Abraham Lincoln cruising off the coast of California (p.145). Ricks goes out of his way to say that Bush never used the phrase ‘mission accomplished’, it was just the words on a huge banner hanging behind him. But even to an informed amateur like myself it was obvious what a stupid, short-sighted and profoundly ignorant speech it was. The Americans’ problems were just starting, as anybody who knew anything about the Middle East or the Arab world could have told the hawks for the price of a pint.

Weapons of mass distraction

It is amusing to learn how, during these crucial first days and weeks, US forces wasted an immense amount of time and resources searching for the non-existent weapons of mass destruction instead of policing the streets, which is what a country descending into chaos needed (p.146).

What’s more, in the quest for phantom WMD, American forces left hundreds of thousands of conventional weapons untouched, partly for fear that detonating them might blow up gas or chemicals, mostly because they were looking for the phantom factories and warehouses. And so they allowed insurgents-in-the-making to walk in and loot vast amounts of arms and munitions and walk off with them at their leisure. Breath-taking, amazing stupidity.

hence the jokey phrase that the non-existent weapons of mass destruction in practice turned out to be weapons of mass distraction, distracting US forces from the more straightforward and useful task of securing Iraq’s armouries. Not only were WMDs a fake reason for the invasion but they then significantly contributed to the arming of the insurgencies which were to bedevil the American occupation.

Definition of ‘the initiative’

In late April and early May the Americans, with no clear plan in place and insufficient personnel to secure the country, lost the initiative. In most people’s hands this would be a phrase, but what makes the book outstanding is the way Ricks gives these terms careful definitions, often within the specific context of military doctrine. Thus he defines ‘the initiative’ as ‘the ability to choose the time and location of battle, a key and often decisive factor in any military engagement’. Instead, the Americans’ drift and lack of direction handed the initiative over to countless angry insurgents.

According to the Pentagon, 250,000 tons of ordnance was looted, providing a significant source of ammunition to the future insurgents. In addition, the Iraqi army and Republican Guard had created hundreds of hidden weapons caches before the invasion in preparation for prolonged resistance.

There weren’t enough US troops:

  • to stop the looting which wrecked then occupiers reputation and damaged important infrastructure
  • to secure the borders, specially in the west with Syria, across which streamed zealous jihadis
  • to train new Iraqi police, a task delegated to contractors
  • to supervise detainees who swiftly filled the gaols to overflowing

Chronic lack of personnel in each of these areas – on the direct personal orders of Rumsfeld – was have catastrophic consequences (p.147).

The scandal of Abu Ghraib

The most florid and attention-grabbing was the complete failure to prepare to handle the large number of detainees the army soon started rounding up and sending to prison to be interrogated. Which prisons? The same ones Saddam had used such as Abu Ghraib just west of the capital, only even more degraded and squalid than during his time. So much for ‘liberation’.

There weren’t enough trained interrogators who could speak Arabic, so interrogation often ended up as a lot of slapping and shouting, plus the new techniques of waterboarding and other forms of abuse and torture. What was required was Military Police but large units of these had been deliberately and specifically dropped from the invasion plan by Rumsfeld in person. And it was this Rumsfeld-created shortage of Military Police or soldiers trained to run such facilities meant they were run by the likes of the badly trained and inadequately supervised junior soldiers who took all those photographs of terrorising Iraqi prisoners at Abu Ghraib which leaked out with a catastrophic loss of reputation for America, for all time. A reputation for holding the moral high ground, around the developing world, which it will never really capture (pages 197 to 200 and 290 to 293, 296 to 297).

The notorious photos from Abu Ghraib prison showing untrained low-ranking American soldiers abusing Iraqi prisoners

One of the keys to winning a counterinsurgency is to treat enemy captives well; if won over with leniency and understanding, today’s captive may be converted to tomorrow’s mayor or council member, a useful ally in reconstructing civil society (p.421). So how did America treat its prisoners? Worse than animals. Hence 8 years of war.

Bremer’s historic mistakes

Within a week of taking over command of the Coalition Provisional Authority, L. Paul Bremer made his two infamous decisions (pages 158 to 165):

  • Coalition Provisional Authority Order 1 banned the Ba’ath party in all forms and banned from public life anyone who had been a member of the party, no matter how lowly
  • Coalition Provisional Authority Order 2 dismantled the Iraqi Army, 23 May 2003

The first one deprived over100,000 generally honest Iraqi citizens of their livelihoods. The second did the same to about 400,000 members of the armed forces. Both were overnight deprived of their livelihoods, income and the respect so important in an Arab country. Some were angry and protested outside the newly established Green Zone. Others took steps to join the nascent insurgencies, many of which offered them cash to join.

Ricks quote numerous army officers such as Major General Renuart, saying things like: ‘That was the day that we snatched defeat from the jaws of victory’ (p.163) or Colonel Alan King: ‘May was the turning point. When we disbanded the military and announced that we were occupiers, that was it’ (p.164); Colonel Paul Hughes: ‘When we disbanded the Iraqi army we created a significant part of the Iraqi insurgency’ (p.191) and many more like them.

More strategically, in a country riven by ethnic and religious divisions, the army had (as in so many developing countries) been one of the few unifying national institutions. Not only did abolishing it turn hundreds of thousands of angry and well-trained soldiers into insurgents, it hugely exacerbated ethnic division (p.163).

Counter-insurgency

The other Big Idea which increasingly comes to dominate Ricks’s accountt is that of counter-insurgency. In brief, it became more and more obvious to intelligent observers (i.e. nobody in the Bush administration) that the Americans were fighting the wrong kind of war. The army had been briefed from top to bottom to fight a conventional war, advancing in formation, accompanied by tanks and air support overhead, against conventional forces arrayed in trenches or battle formation etc.

First of all the military was blindsided when, having won the conventional war in a matter of weeks, it turned out that they were being called on to maintain the peace, enforce law and order, manage the never-ending influx of detainees, something none of them had been trained for (Abu Ghraib).

But then the situation took a further turn, as the insurgents, taking advantage of the Americans’ complete lack of a plan, began to launch an insurgency. It took the people in charge, in the Pentagon and State Department months and months to realise this was what was happening. The conflict changed from the quick, easy war they’d been bragging about into another Vietnam-style, prolonged, small-scale, low-level insurgency, precisely the kind of thing they’d sworn blind would never happen.

What is counter-insurgency?

In a conventional war your aim is to kill as many of the enemy as necessary until they surrender and cease to be combatants. The civilian population are uninvolved bystanders to the clash between two uniformed, centrally organised armies. In an insurgency the opposition does not wear uniform, blends in with the civilian population, launches small attacks on vulnerable targets (police stations, foot patrols) before disappearing back into the population.

Therefore, the key plank of counterinsurgency warfare is to win the population. The population are the battle space and the goal of counter-insurgency. Only with the passive assistance of the general population can an insurgency survive. If you win over the population, the insurgents have no background to slip back into. The general population is the goal and therefore you do everything in your power to win them over.

How? By providing what they need: bringing security, enforcing law and order, getting the electricity and drinking water working. Above all you are polite and respectful. A country like Iraq gives great importance to personal dignity, especially of the male head of households or the elders of communities, villages and tribes. Therefore extreme respect must be shown at all times. The army must go out of its way to win the respect and trust of the civilian population. That is the only way to slowly, patiently, strangle an insurgency, by steadily reducing the pool or recruits and the places it can hire.

Did the Americans practice counter-insurgency?

No, they did the exact opposite. Hence the 50 page-section Ricks ironically titles ‘How to create an insurgency’ (pages 149 to 200).

The Americans stood by while the country collapsed into chaos, the Americans did nothing as criminal gangs roamed the streets. The Americans allowed government ministries, museums, schools and hospitals to be looted and destroyed.

On a personal level, the Americans were extremely rude and aggressive with Iraq civilians. They forced other road users off the roads. They drove round pointing their guns at everyone. They shot first and asked questions later, killing unarmed civilians in the process, on several notorious occasions killing Iraqi policemen who they themselves had helped to train (by accident and incompetence, rival night patrols opening fire on each other, that sort of thing).

And the Americans carried out systematic abuse of prisoners or ‘persons under control’ (PUC). Ordinary soldiers developed an attitude called ‘Fuck a PUC’ (p.278), yelling and abuse was the start which often escalated to beating, punching, up to breaking bones, threatening with guns etc.

As the insurgency ramped up, US forces took to raiding entire quarters of any town or city where an insurgent attack took place, kicking open the doors of domestic houses, waving guns around, chucking hand grenades into cellars, corralling women and children screaming with terror into the main room and telling them to shut the fuck up. Very often they deliberately humiliated the man of the house in front of his women and children, forcing him to the floor, kneeling on his neck, yelling abuse, letting off pistols right by his ear. Ricks tells the story of the soldier who told an older man he was going to execute one of his two sons and to pick which one to save and which one to condemn to death before taking one of them outside, out of sight and firing his gun, reducing the father to tears of hysteria (p.273).

At a higher, operational level, the Americans made the bad mistake of regularly rotating troops back to the States. This meant that individual commanders and soldiers on the ground were just beginning to establish relationships with local communities, civic leaders and so on, building trust and respect, when they were moved on and a new bunch of soldiers came in who had to start all over from scratch (p.142).

In short, the Americans broke every rule in the counter-insurgency guidebook and did everything they possibly could to turn the entire population against them.

Ricks makes the specific point that men who had been publicly humiliated in the way I’ve described, were compelled by their culture’s sense of honour, to redeem their manhood. Even if they didn’t particularly want to, or weren’t naturally violent, their culture demanded they strike back to redeem themselves and so hundreds of thousands of men were recruited to give active or passive assistance to the insurgency.

It took over a year for the Americans to realise they were fighting the wrong kind of war. Ricks’s book is absolutely riveting as he describes the way some military leaders (Major General David Petraeus, Marine Corps General James Mattis) always knew this or learned it and promulgated it to the divisions under their command.

Classic guides to counter-insurgency

Ricks’s description of counter-insurgent warfare is so insightful and clear and useful partly because he cites classic works on the theme. These include:

Galula’s book lays out four principles:

  1. The aim of the war is to gain the support of the population rather than control of territory.
  2. Most of the population will be neutral in the conflict; support of the masses can be obtained with the help of an active friendly minority.
  3. Support of the population may be lost. The population must be efficiently protected to allow it to cooperate without fear of retribution by the enemy.
  4. Order enforcement should be done progressively by removing or driving away armed opponents, then gaining the support of the population, then strengthening positions by building infrastructure and setting long-term relationships with the population. This must be done area by area, using a pacified territory as a basis of operation to conquer a neighbouring area.

These echo the four principles laid out by a British soldier, Sir Charles Gwynne, who wrote in his 1939 textbook ‘Imperial Policing’ that, because counter-insurgency is primarily a political strategy (p.266):

  1. the civil power must be in charge
  2. civilian and military powers must cooperate closely in everything to ensure one chain of command and unified approach
  3. if required, action must be firm and prompt
  4. but force should always be kept to an absolute minimum to avoid losing the population

Or to put it another way:

  • A lesson of every successful modern counterinsurgency campaign [is that] violence is the tool of last resort, especially for troops foreign to the local population (p.225)
  • The great body of successful counterinsurgency practice…holds that firepower should be as restrained as possible. (p.234)
  • One of the most basic concepts of counterinsurgency campaigns, that they succeed when a minimum of firepower is employed. (p.250)

For in counterinsurgency warfare, the population is the prize (p.318):

  • Classic counterinsurgency doctrine…holds that the objective is first to gain control of the population and then win their support. (p.250)
  • ‘The population…becomes the objective for the counterinsurgent as it was for his enemy’ Galula, quoted p.266)
  • ‘Success in a counterinsurgency environment is based on winning popular support, not on blowing up people’s houses’ (p.315)

The immensely complicated effort required for modern warfare

Obviously the US invasion and occupation of Iraq was catastrophic in all sorts of ways which Ricks’s book describes in excruciating detail. But what really comes over is a sense of how complicated it is a mount a modern military campaign, at how many levels or aspects you have to manage to manage so many people with so many conflicting priorities and opinions.

At the very least there’s the international diplomatic scene to be managed, relationships with NATO partners as well as with the usual antagonists at the United Nations, Russia and China.

There’s public opinion which has to be managed and, in this case, lied to about weapons of mass destruction, in order to psych it for war.

But Ricks’s book makes abundantly clear that the real struggle comes within your own administration itself, where you need a) the right person as minister of war and b) the right person in charge of the Army; you need c) both to be in charge of functioning, well-managed organisations, and d) the two top guys to be able to communicate and work together to a shared goal.

One small criticism

Obviously the book only goes up to early 2006, when it was published, whereas the conflict continued on until 2011. My 2007 paperback edition has an afterword in which Ricks gives several scenarios to how he thinks the conflict might play out.

It’s not really a criticism but the one big thing I wish the book had contained was more about the contemporaneous situation in Afghanistan. Given the tremendous detail Ricks goes into about the structure and bureaucracy and funding and planning and key personnel of the US military in Iraq, it feels like a big piece of the jigsaw is missing in that he only occasionally mentions that the US was fighting a whole other war, in Afghanistan, at the same time.

I would expect that the commitment to Afghanistan caused all kinds of problems for the Army planners mapping out the plans for Iraq, but you don’t get any detail on that. I would also have expected lessons learned in one place to be applied to the other i.e. there must have been dialogue between the occupying forces in both countries, but Ricks gives no sign of it.

Relevance to Ignatieff’s theories

The aim of Michael Ignatieff’s 2003 book Empire Lite is to argue that, given the chaos which has engulfed numerous weak and failing states in the light of the withdrawal of the two superpowers from their imperial dominance at the end of the Cold War, America, if it wants to achieve geopolitical security, needs to really commit to imperial intervention in the worst of these failing states and to ‘state building’ there.

Some countries, Ignatieff argues, can only conceivably be saved by imperial intervention, by which he means long-running and deep commitment to put troops on the ground and stay the course, to establish peace between warring ethnic groups and build the apparatus of a state, not just the usual guff about ‘internationally supervised democratic elections’, but the infrastructure stuff which really counts, from education to clean water.

My reply to Ignatieff is that the Americans tried to do this – in a reasonably planned way in Afghanistan, for a good 20 years, in a far more chaotic, make-it-up-as-they-went-along way in Iraq. And the point is that they failed in both. America’s engagement in both countries amount to two different but extended and very expensive attempts to implement Ignatieff’s proposal for longer, deeper Western involvement in developing countries riven by ethnic conflict and civil war. Surely the conclusion of both experiments is that such extensive and expensive commitment by the West does not work.

In reality America, and her half-hearted allies in NATO, are committed to trying to control situations in a huge number of countries round the world:

  • the US controls about 750 bases in at least 80 countries
  • in 2020 the US had around 173,000 troops deployed in 159 countries (source: al Jazeera)

But never again will the US and its allies invade a country with the blithe confidence that it can impose western norms of law, politics and democracy.

Iran triumphans

According to a 2019 US Army study, the only country to emerge as victor of the Iraq war was America’s long-time nemesis, Iran. Although they make up a majority of the population of Iraq, Shia Muslims were liable to repression and imprisonment under the rule of Saddam, a Sunni Muslim, especially in light of the terrible Iran Iraq war (1980 to 1988). The overthrow of Saddam and American promises to implement democracy immediately placed Shia parties in a commanding position. This led to internecine fighting between Shias and Sunnis with entire areas of Baghdad ethnically cleansed at the cost of much torture and bloodshed. It led to the sudden rise to prominence of Shia cleric Muqtada al-Sadr.

But above all it meant that, whichever party won power, which ever government ran Iraq, would include figures who had been in exile in Iran, were mentored by Iran, were under the control of the Iranian government. Twenty years later Iraqi politics remain fraught and complex but the one unqualified winner to emerge from the whole shambles was Iran. And it was the increased ‘threat’ from Shia Iran which hardened hawkish attitudes in Sunni Saudi Arabia, and which explains why Iran and Saudi Arabia are fighting proxy wars against each other in Yemen and Syria.

Back to Ricks who cites an unnamed US intelligence officer drolly commenting that:

‘The difference between Tommy Franks and Tehran was that the Iranians had a good Phase IV plan.’ (p.123)


Credit

Fiasco: The American Military Adventure in Iraq by Thomas E. Ricks was published by Penguin Books in 2006. References are to the 2007 paperback edition.

New world disorder reviews

Occidentalism: A Short History of Anti-Westernism by Ian Buruma and Avishai Margalit (2004)

The dehumanising picture of the West painted by its enemies is what we have called Occidentalism. It is our intention in this book to examine this cluster of prejudices and trace their historical roots.
(Occidentalism: A Short History of Anti-Westernism, page 6)

Some features of Occidentalism

Many groups have queued up to hate ‘the West’ over the past 200 years, for many reasons, claiming that:

  • the West is a purveyor of ‘poisonous materialism’
  • Westernism is a disease of the spirit
  • the Western mind splits human knowledge into soulless specialisms
  • Westernism promotes alienated individualism over communal belonging
  • Western science destroys religious belief and faith
  • Western media are decadent and pornographic
  • Western culture is shallow and materialist so destroys spiritual values
  • Western society is capitalist, greedy, exploitative
  • Westernism is a ‘machine civilisation’ (compared to hand-made rural arts and crafts)
  • resentment / hatred of Western imperialism
  • of Western colonialism
  • of Western (particularly American) global power and selfish foreign policy
  • Western civilisation is associated with huge, degraded, corrupt cities (compared with organic rural life)
  • the West represents ‘rootless cosmopolitanism’ and multiculturalism (compared with homogeneous native traditions)

These are the accusations and stereotypes which the authors set out to analyse and investigate, going much further afield than the contemporary Middle East, and much further back in time than the past few troubled decades, to do so.

The authors

Ian Buruma (born 1951, aged 72) is a Dutch writer and editor who lives and works in the US. Much of his writing has focused on the culture of Asia, particularly that of China and 20th-century Japan.

Avishai Margalit (born 1939, aged 83) is an Israeli professor emeritus in philosophy at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem. From 2006 to 2011 he was George F. Kennan Professor at the Institute for Advanced Study in Princeton.

Both were contributors to The New York Review of Books during the 1990s and in fact this book grew out of an article published in that magazine in 2002, less than 12 months after the 9/11 attacks on New York shook the world of international affairs.

The background: Edward Said’s Orientalism

Buruma and Margalit don’t mention Edward Said in the text but they explicitly state that their concept of ‘Occidentalism’ is conceived as a mirror image of the notion of Orientalism which Said was instrumental in defining and popularising.

The view of the West in Occidentalism is like the worst aspects of its counterpart, Orientalism, which strips its human targets of their humanity. Some Orientalist prejudices made non-Western people seem less than fully adult human beings; they ha the minds of children and could thus be treated as ‘lesser breeds’. Occidentalism is at least as reductive; its bigotry simply turns the Orientalist view upside down. [It reduces] an entire society or civilisation to a mass of soulless, decadent, money-grabbing, rootless, faithless, unfeeling parasites… (p.11)

Prior to Said’s book, Orientalism had been the value-neutral name given to a perfectly respectable academic discipline, the study of the languages, peoples and societies of ‘the East’ (loosely defined as lands from the Middle East to Japan) until Said published his landmark study, Orientalism in 1978.

Orientalism was a long, thorough, polemical attack on the entire discipline, claiming that from its earliest beginnings it 1) drew up a clear unbridgeable distinction between ‘The East’ and ‘The West’, 2) invented stereotypes of ‘the Oriental’, ‘the Arab’, ‘the Muslim’ and 3) attributed to them and their world a shopping list of negative qualities, the stereotypical ‘Oriental’ being lazy, irrational, dominated by a simple-minded religion, corrupt, sensual, and so on.

Orientalism was intended to be a comprehensive demolition of an entire academic field which Said proved by showing that the same mental structures underpinned, and the same demeaning stereotypes and clichés appeared in, almost all Orientalist writing, from the late eighteenth century right up to the present day.

This would all have been fairly academic, in the narrow sense – academics squabbling over the epistemological foundations of a particular academic field – but for the real bite of the book which is its highly political approach.

This has two elements. Firstly Said claims that the entire field of research into the languages, culture, religions, society and so on of ‘the Orient’ enabled and justified imperial control of the region. Knowledge is power, and the ever-more comprehensive and intrusive studies done of the countless peoples, religions and cultures of this vast area enabled Western imperial control over them. Orientalist academic studies served colonial power.

The Palestinian issue

This by itself would have been a fairly controversial conclusion, but there’s a second, really inflammatory element to Said’s critique. This is his attempt to show the discredited assumptions and degrading attitudes of Orientalism played, and continue to play, an important role in determining attitudes across western culture and politics to the Problem of Palestine.

This, as every educated person knows, is one of the most contentious issues in international affairs. In 1917 the British Home Secretary, Arthur Balfour, declared that Britain would support the Jews of Europe in their wish to create a homeland in the Biblical Lands of Palestine. Between the wars increasing numbers of Jewish immigrants fled Europe and settled in Palestine, buying land from its Arab owners. Tensions between incomers and natives erupted into regular bouts of violence which the British authorities, given a ‘mandate’ to run the area after the First World War, struggled to contain. After the Second World War, an exhausted, impoverished Britain tried to hold the ring between increasingly violent Jewish and Arab nationalist political parties and militias, until, in 1948, they effectively gave up and withdrew.

The well-organised and well-armed Jewish settlers promptly declared the existence of the independent state of Israel and the neighbouring Arab countries promptly attacked it, seeking to strangle it at birth. The Israeli army successfully defended its country and amid, much bloodshed, hundreds of thousands of Palestinians fled, or were expelled, into neighbouring countries, especially Jordan.

In 1967 a joint force of Arab countries led by Egypt was mobilising for another attack when Israel launched a lightning pre-emptive strike, crushing the Egyptian army and forcing the Arabs to sign an armistice after just six days. As a result Israel seized the Jordanian-annexed West Bank (including East Jerusalem), and Egypt’s Sinai Peninsula as well as the Egyptian-occupied Gaza Strip.

As many as 325,000 Palestinians and 100,000 Syrians fled or were expelled from the West Bank and the Golan Heights, respectively, creating a humanitarian crisis.

In 1973 the Arabs launched a surprise attack on October 6, the Jewish holy day of Yom Kippur. Once again Israel faced numerically overwhelming forces but fought them off in what was effectively the Third Arab-Israeli War. In the aftermath of the war the Israelis realised that they couldn’t rely on fighting off Arab armies indefinitely, and so they began to put out feelers for some kind of peace treaty, which was to lead to the 1978 Camp David Accords under which Israel return the entire Sinai Peninsula to Egypt.

Orientalist attitudes to the Palestinian problem

The point of this long digression is that Said was a Palestinian. Both his parents were of Palestinian heritage, he was born in Palestine and raised in Egypt, attending English-language schools in Jerusalem and then Alexandria. Said’s father had served with US Army during the Great War and so earned US citizenship so, when he was expelled from his Egyptian private school for being a troublemaker he was sent to a private boarding school in Massachusetts, USA. Thus began his career as an academic in America (in New York).

But as he progressed through the academic hierarchy, as well as his purely academic publications about comparative literature, Said became known for his ‘outspoken’ opinions about the Palestinian issue, namely speaking up for the plight of the hundreds of thousands of Palestinian refugees, calling for the government of Israel to moderate its policies in the occupied territories and so on.

This, as you might have expected in polarised politicised America, drew down on his head the wrath of numerous journalists, commentators, Jewish groups and so on, many of which didn’t refrain from employing exactly the kinds of denigratory stereotypes he had listed in Orientalism against Said himself and the Palestinians he spoke up for.

In the Introduction to Orientalism Said explains that the motivation to write the book was partly driven by his own personal experience of Orientalist tropes. In New York academia he found himself extremely isolated as almost the only Palestinian and Arab working in an academic and publishing environment dominated by white liberals or Jews sympathetic to Israel and its policies.

So his own personal experience of having anti-Arab, anti-Palestinian and anti-Muslim slurs directed at himself, his writings and his opinions was a big motivation behind the years of research and labour of love which Orientalism amounts to.

This explains why the huge book, with its mountains of evidence, all work one way, criticising ‘the West’, Western attitudes, Western academia, Western imperialism, Western racism and so on.

In the Introduction Said explicitly says that he is not interested in exploring ‘the Arab Mind’ or ‘the Islamic World’ and so on. That would have doubled or quadrupled the length of the book, plus which he wasn’t professionally qualified to take on such huge subjects. His interest is solely in a deep investigation of how Western attitudes against ‘the Orient’ were created and proliferated throughout Orientalist studies, fiction and so on.

9/11

A lot happened in the real world between Orientalism‘s publication in 1978 and the publication of Occidentalism in 2002, but in the world of academia, magazines and publishing Said’s critique of Western attitudes had become very widespread among bien-pensant liberals. In the academy and liberal journals Said’s view that ‘the West’ continually sees the Middle East, the Arab world and Islam through simplistic, racist ‘Orientalist’ stereotypes, had become very widely accepted.

The 9/11 attacks on the World Trade Centre in New York, the Pentagon and (possibly) the White House (the fourth plane that came down in Washington) galvanised and transformed the culture, shocking and terrifying people around the Western world. It led numerous commentators and analysts to claim that we had entered a new era of war between ‘the West’ and ‘Islam’ or ‘Islamic terrorism’ or ‘Islamofascism’ etc, an inflammatory rhetoric which translated into actual war when, within a month of the 9/11 attacks, in October 2001, US forces invaded Afghanistan to overthrow the Taliban regime there.

Occidentalism

This is where Buruma and Margalit come in. They readily concede that 9/11, like the First Gulf War before it, led to an explosion throughout the media of just the kind of Orientalist racist stereotypes which Said had dedicated his life to uncovering and critiquing. But they point out that there was a gap in the whole discussion. If ‘the West’ could be accused of deploying Orientalist stereotypes against ‘the East’, ‘the Arab world’ etc, what about the stereotypes of the West which could be found in the media and political and terrorist discourse of the East? Didn’t Arab and Palestinian and Muslim leaders regularly rail against ‘the West’, didn’t an endless stream of news footage show enraged mobs burning the American flag and shouting ‘Down with America’, and wasn’t this anti-western rhetoric routinely associated with a predictable shopping list of negative stereotypes? Short answer, yes.

So what are these anti-Western tropes and where did they come from?

The West and ‘the Modern’

Right at the start Buruma and Margalit made a fundamental conceptual decision which underpins everything that follows: this is to identify anti-Western discourse with anti-Modernism. They argue that when nationalist commentators and activists in the rest of the world attack ‘the West’, they almost always conflate ‘the West’ with every aspect of the modern world which they dislike, despise or fear, everything from industrialisation, secularism, capitalism, rationalism through to cultural products such as pop music and pornography.

What many of the anti-Western nationalist movements of the past 100 or 150 years, whether in India or China or Japan, in the Middle East or across Africa, have in common is that they want to turn the clock back. They dream of an era which preceded the arrival of the West with its monstrous attributes of godless science, nation states, brutal capitalism, cultural hegemony and so on, they dream of an era when their countries were untainted by western influence, untainted by godless capitalism, when everyone lived in small rural communities and shared the same simple faith and devoutness.

At the roots of much anti-Western feeling is a deeper resentment at all these aspects of the modern world and a passionate desire to turn the clock back to simpler, more spiritual times. This leads them to a counter-intuitive conclusion:

Anti-westernism is a western product

The first people to loathe and hate modernism i.e the rise of a secular, godless, liberal, pluralistic society based on industrial capitalism, with the uprooting or rural populations and their herding into monster cities which became sinks of immorality and degeneracy etc, were westerners themselves.

It is one of our contentions that Occidentalism, like capitalism, Marxism, and many other modern isms, was born in Europe before it was transferred to other parts of the world. (p.6, emphasis added)

The main opponents to the birth and spread of industrial capitalist society were inhabitants of that society itself. Marx is the obvious epitome of this trend, but there had been plenty of opponents to the rise of godless rationalism and capitalist industrialisation for generations before him, and loads of theoreticians who tried to cling onto older ideas of pre-industrial societies bound together by a common religion

To put it simply, Western society has, for well over 200 years, contained a large number of intellectuals who fear, hate and loath their own western society, and who have developed an extensive set of concepts and vocabulary to express that hatred in.

Communist anti-westernism

The Bolshevik revolution of 1917 appeared, at a stroke, to validate the enormous, world-reaching rhetoric of Marxist analysis, to prove the inevitable collapse of capitalism and of communist revolution, and the Soviet regime spent the next 70 years energetically spreading its anti-western ideas and rhetoric around the world.

Fascist anti-westernism

But the Bolsheviks triggered an equal and opposite reaction in the extreme nationalist movements which developed into totalitarian fascism in Italy, then Germany and the other European governments who fell prey to authoritarian or fascist regimes between the wars.

And the fascist, anti-modern rhetoric developed by these regimes and their numerous intellectual defenders and propagandists, continued long after the Second World War, helping to justify and underpin semi-fascist military regimes in, for example, Franco’s Spain, Salazar’s Portugal, the Greece of the generals, or right-wing regimes in South America such as Pinochet’s Chile (1973 to 1990) or the military government in Argentina (1976 to 1993).

So this is the most fundamental thing about the book – Buruma and Margalit’s decision to expand its frame of reference faaaar beyond a consideration of anti-western rhetoric in the Middle East, in the Arab world or as expressed by Islamic terrorists like Osama bin Laden, and to turn it into an investigation of anti-Western thought in its widest possible definition.

Scope

In their introduction, on page 11, Buruma and Margalit briefly consider taking a chronological approach to the subject, tracing the origins of anti-western feeling all the way back to the Counter-Reformation, through the Counter-Enlightenment, before exploring the roots of the various types of socialist, communist and fascist opposition to the modern world.

Mercifully, maybe, instead of the kind of exhaustive multi-volume study this would have turned into, they decide to take a thematic approach. They will look at certain key images or symbols of the decadent, greedy, rootless etc West, and sketch out their origins in (mostly) Western discourse. This helps explain why the book is a light and frolicsome 149 pages long, although some of the explication is so dense and compressed that it sometimes feels like longer…

Contents

Accordingly, the text is divided into six chapters. The headings are neat and logical but I found the text they contain often very digressive, in the sense that it hops between quite disparate topics, times and places and then, just as unpredictably, returns to what they were originally discussing. On the upside this means the text is often as interesting for the sidelights or incidental observations it throws out as for the central points.

1. War Against The West

Introduction, as summarised above.

2. The Occidental City

Contrary to received opinion, people who hold strong Occidentalist views tend to be educated, or at least educated enough to be familiar enough with the values of the West to hate them. Taking the view that ‘Western values’ are undermining this or that set of traditional native values requires you to have a pretty good theoretical understanding both of what your native values are, what Western values are, and how the latter is ‘poisoning’ the former.

Far from being a dogma favoured by downtrodden peasants, Occidentalism more often reflects the fears and prejudices of urban intellectuals, who feel displaced in the world of mass commerce. (p.30, emphasis added)

Re. the 9/11 attacks on hi-tech buildings, Osama bin Laden trained as a civil engineer. the ringleader of the hijackers, Mohamed Atta, studied architecture at Cairo University and went on to do a Masters in urban planning at the Hamburg University of Technology. He hated modern architecture. He thought the concrete high-rise buildings built in Cairo and across the region in the 1960s and 1970s ruined the beauty of old neighbourhoods and robbed their people of privacy and dignity.

The tower of Babel

Tall buildings have been a focus of anxieties and symbols of ill omen from at least as long ago as the Bible. The Old Testament or Jewish Bible has barely got going before, in chapter 11, we are told about Nimrod who built the Tower of Babel with a view to making a name for themselves. God and, it appears, his angels, feared what they might do next, so afflicted the workers on it with different languages so they couldn’t understand each other, and then dispersed them across the face of the earth.

I visited New York in the 1980s and went to the top of the South Tower of the World Trade Centre which had an observation deck on the 107th floor and an outdoor viewing platform. It was 1,377 feet above street level. You could feel the building moving under your feet since it was designed to have a certain amount of ‘give’. I have acute vertigo and was terrified.

Cities as sinks of iniquity

Throughout recorded history, cities in every culture have been associated with corruption, greed, exploitation of the poor by the rich, decadence and immorality.

It is a universal story, this clash between old and new, authentic culture and metropolitan chicanery and artifice, country and city. (p.27)

Western sources

Regarding the authors’ focus on western texts, they live down to my expectations. In just the first part of this chapter they quote the Bible, Juvenal, the Goncourt brothers, William Blake (Dark Satanic mills), T.S. Eliot (The Rock), Richard Wagner (despised the frivolity of Paris), Voltaire (admired the liberty of eighteenth century London), Theodor Fontane (disliked London’s materialism), Friedrich Engels (horrified by the poverty of Manchester) and not a single Arab or Muslim voice.

It feels like a fairly obvious sixth form selection of obvious cultural figures (Blake, Eliot, Wagner). I’d so much have preferred an explanation of Islamic traditions about ‘the city’.

Antisemitism

They then move onto antisemitism, long associated with cities, cosmopolitan i.e. non-native culture, money-lending and capitalism etc, citing (again) Eliot, Pierre-Joseph Proudhon, Marx. The Nazis incorporated late-nineteenth century tropes of seeking to escape the city for a healthier life in the country into their fascist propaganda about racial purity, despising a checklist of big capitalism, cosmopolitan crowds, decadence (nightclubs and jazz), corruption of good Aryan women into prostitution and, of course, managed to blame all of this on ‘the Jews’.

A lot of these concerns and the language they were expressed in were picked up by other nativist nationalists, in Japan (about which Buruma knows a lot and which developed its own form of fascism during the 1930s) and in the Arab Middle East, developing its anti-colonial, anti-western rhetoric (many nationalist Arab leaders allied with Nazi Germany on the twin bases that a) my enemy (Britain)’s enemy is my friend and b) shared antisemitism).

Sayyid Qutb

They make a brief mention of Sayyid Qutb (1906 to 1966), widely considered the father of modern Islamic fundamentalism, to address not his writings, but his miserable alienation when he moved to New York to study in the 1940s and was repelled by absolutely everything about American life, its soulless materialism, its obsession with capitalist consumerism, its degraded immorality. Maybe they felt obligated to wedge him in somewhere, but Qutb’s importance to the development of Islamism or Islamic fundamentalism or Islamic terrorism isn’t developed at all. A paragraph on him before swooping back to Europe and…

The French Revolution

Surprisingly, maybe, they then move to the French Revolution. The French Revolution crystallised Enlightenment trends against medieval monarchs and aristocrats, the rule of the Church, traditions of all sorts, which needed to be torn up and thrown away, replaced by the cult of Reason, modern laws for modern enlightened citizens.

Antisemitism was implicit in Christianity from the beginning, with the Jews being blamed for insisting on the crucifixion of Jesus by the earliest Church Fathers. Buruma and Margalit attribute the birth of modern antisemitism to the French Revolution. Traditional upholders of the monarchy, the aristocracy and the Catholic Church were easily persuaded that the whole thing was a Jewish conspiracy, and so was born a whole modern antisemitic way of thinking about the world, which was to flourish and become steadily more toxic in the heart of Europe as the nineteenth century progressed.

The German Volk

Soon after the revolution, France invaded Germany, or the German states. Ideological opposition to the teachings of the French Revolution became mixed up with patriotic fervour. This all happened to the first generation of German Romantics. France came to represent the modern, godless, cosmopolitan city, riddled with over-clever philosophers and money-grubbing Jews, which was trying to conquer and obliterate the values of the Volkisch, spiritual German town, the German landscape of sturdy peasants, wise artisans and soulful poets. The authors cite the German folklorist Gottfried von Herder (1744 to 1803) as an example of this view.

Japan and China struggle to adopt Western culture

But western ideas of democracy, industrialism, capitalism and so forth were undeniably effective. They provided the underpinnings for the astonishing spread of Western imperialism. The question for rulers in countries from Morocco to Japan was which ideas from the West it would be profitable to accept, and which they needed to reject in order to maintain their culture and traditions, protect their nations from ‘spiritual pollution’ i.e. Western liberal ideas. Tricky.

Japan and China in different ways tried to adopt Western techniques without changing the core of their culture. Japan was much more successful, maybe because its centralised administration was stronger: it imported Western industrialisation while managing to keep a strong sense of national culture. By contrast the Chinese political system had become corrupt and inefficient so it failed to import Western industrialisation but instead found itself infected with all kinds of Western ideas about republics and democracy and the individual etc, ideas which led to the overthrow of the monarchy in 1911.

The appeal of Marxism to anti-colonial nationalists

For the central 70 years of the twentieth century many developing countries thought that Marxism offered a way forward. It was modern, industrial, scientific but rejected the soulless materialism, corruption and imperialist mindset of the Western capitalist societies. hence its attraction for many developing countries, especially in the decades after independence in the 1940s and 50s.

Unfortunately it was the dream which failed. The failure of the secular socialist nationalism promoted by the likes of President Nasser of Egypt, Gaddafi in Libya, Saddam in Iraq, Assad in Syria led to a wave of disillusion across the Arab world and opened the cultural space for Islamists who promoted a radical solution, a return to a world before any kind of modernity existed, back to the pure, unsullied, pious and unified world of the early Caliphate.

Mao and the war against the city

The authors devote 4 or 5 pages to Chairman Mao, ruler of China from 1949 to 1976. They see Mao as the biggest exponent in all world history of the war of the country against the city. The corrupt westernised city was epitomised for Chinese communists like Mao by Shanghai, administered by westerners and packed with a cosmopolitanism, capitalism and corruption. Mao thought such places needed to be purged in the name of a peasant communism.

Mao’s promotion of peasant values promised an escape route from Western capitalism, from urban alienation, decadence and corruption, and a return to integrated rural communities, where life and work would have proper, deep human meaning and purpose.

And so during the 1950s he unleashed the Great Leap Forward which involved rounding up and shooting hundreds of thousands of members of the urban bourgeoisie, those who survived being sent to huge rural labour camps. It was, he boomed, in countless speeches, a good thing ‘to exterminate the bourgeoisie and capitalism in China’ (p.42).

The Khmer Rouge 1975 to 1979

This is the mindset which went on to guide the horrific Khmer Rouge regime in Cambodia, 1975 to 1979. Most of Pol Pot’s soldiers were illiterate peasants, often only boys. When they took the capital, Phnom Penh, they were staggered by the wealth, the size, the swarming multinational population, the coffee shops and fleshpots. All these were ruthlessly emptied and its inhabitants either shot on the spot, or dragged off to be tortured, or marched off to labour camps in the countryside. Only by exterminating the urban bourgeoisie could the country be restored to purity and truth and correct living. It was a kind of logical end point of centuries of anti-city rhetoric.

The Taliban 1996

Same with the Taliban, illiterate peasants in flipflops armed with weapons seized from the fleeing Soviets or donated by America. After a ruinous civil war they took the capital of Afghanistan, Kabul, in 1996. First they butchered the leader of the pro-Soviet regime, Mohammad Najibullah, then they banned everything to do with modern life, which they associated with the hated West, in a bid to return society to the ‘purity’ of the earliest days of the Muslim Caliphate.

All music was banned, along with television, soccer, and most forms of socialising. Women had to cover themselves from head to foot and were not allowed out without a chaperone. Kabul was ruled by a six-man shura not one of them from Kabul, not one of them had ever lived in a city.

The Khmer Rouge and the Taliban represented the triumph of ‘authentic’ rural values over the corrupt, decadent modern city.

Germania

The authors then take a characteristic leap in subject, concluding with a page describing a different way of triumphing over the chaotic modern western city: this was to demolish it and build a totalitarian alternative.

Hitler hated Berlin and planned to rebuild it as a totalitarian capital, its alleys and slums replaced by broad boulevards designed for marching armies, its swarming cosmopolitan crowds replaced by the unified adoring Aryan crowd. All the messy attributes of the decadent West – civil liberties, free market economies, democracy, individualism – would be replaced by one Folk, one Reich, one Führer and one Capital City.

The Hitler regime was overthrown before building got very far but other countries have made the experiment. The authors cite Pyongyang, capital of North Korea, as what Germania might have looked like, a neoclassical testament to untrammeled, totalitarian power.

Lastly, they reference the steel and glass cities of coastal China which have mushroomed in the last twenty years, which represent a kind of defiant triumph over the less impressive, shop-soiled cities of the West. We can do it bigger, better and shinier than you, say high rises such as the Burj Khalifa in the United Arab Emirates, Merdeka 118 in Kuala Lumpur, the Shanghai Tower in Shanghai, the Abraj Al-Bait Clock Tower in Mecca, the Ping An International Finance Centre in Seoul and so on.

These are not so much anti-Western, as supra-western, denying old ideas of Western supremacy by outdoing it.

3. Heroes and Merchants

Werner Sombart

This focuses on the roots of Germany’s sustained sense of being different from ‘the West’, which German intellectuals defined as soulless mercantile Britain and godless revolutionary France.

The authors zero in on a book written in 1915 by a German sociologist named Werner Sombart and titled Händler und Helden or Merchants and Heroes. In the book Sombart contrasted the commercial civilisation of Britain and the liberty, equality, fraternity culture of France with the heroic culture of Germany. The Western bourgeois is satisfied with ‘comfort’ (in German Komfortismus) and the soporific sports of the British. By contrast the German welcomes death as the ultimate sacrifice he can make for the Volk.

Similar ideas were shared by the historian Oswald Spengler and the warrior-author Ernst Jünger. Happy happy Germany to have such ideologues of the glory of war. The fundamental trahison des clercs (‘treason of the intellectuals’) is to promote exciting ideas about glory and sacrifice which lead hundreds of thousands of young men to their death. ‘The young must shed their blood,’ write Thomas Abbt (p.58). Other young men, obviously. You need to stay safe in your study in order to produce such intellectual masterworks.

The authors make a direct link between the widespread contempt for bourgeois Komfortismus described by numerous right-wing German intellectuals, and the attitude of the jihadi fighter interviewed early in the 2001 Afghan who said that the Islamists would triumph because ‘You [the West] love life, but we love death’.

Personally, taking a materialist Darwinian evolutionary view of Homo sapiens, it seems unlikely that impatience to make live heroic lives and die in a noble cause, particularly among zealous young men ‘ardent for some desperate glory’, will ever die out. It has been so ubiquitous throughout all human history, in all cultures, that it appears to be hard-wired into the species. I’ve recently read a suite of books about the problems of African society and prominent among them is what to do about disaffected, unemployed youths, hanging round, looking for a cause to redeem their alienated lives…

Military death cults in Japan

The authors go on to trace how German hyper-nationalism and Occidentalism went on to become surprisingly influential in intellectual circles in the Middle East and Japan. The same valuing of a heroic ideal of nationhood which led Hitler to sacrifice an entire generation of German youth, was the one that made the Japanese fight to the death, island by island and send waves of kamikaze pilots in 1944.

Buruma has a counter-intuitive interpretation of Japanese suicide warriors. The phenomenon was considered at the time as being somehow specifically Japanese, but Buruma says the surviving farewell letters of many of the kamikaze pilots (and drivers of the less well-known suicide torpedoes) indicate that most were highly educated students studying the humanities at leading universities, and that a surprising number of them were well read in German literature and philosophy. They dressed up their feelings in tropes about the Samurai and cherry blossom but their fundamental ideas about the diseased decadence of the West and the need for heroic sacrifice are actually Western ideas.

Buruma gives a potted summary of the way Japanese politicians and intellectuals in the mid-nineteenth century cobbled together a patchwork copy of Western intellectual, economic, political, military and religious life, not least in the cobbling together of a state religion, Shinto, which they thought would echo the Christianity which seemed to be such a central part of European life. Ditto the transition of the emperor from a remote and powerless figure in Kyoto, who was moved to Tokyo to become a combination of kaiser, generalissimo, Shinto pope, and highest living deity. People talk (dismissively) about the British inventing many of their ‘traditions’ in the nineteenth century (Christmas trees, the kilt) but the Japanese did the same with knobs on.

Regarding the development of a cult of heroic sacrifice Buruma says an important source was the Imperial Rescript to Soldiers and Sailors of 1882 which the armed forces learned by heart and included a passage commanding the ultimate sacrifice for the emperor.

A practical consequence of this Occidentalism were that, when Western forces surrendered, as at Singapore in 1942, the Japanese viewed surrendering forces as dishonourable cowards who preferred to save their skins rather than fight on to the death i.e. the exact opposite of Japanese martial values.

As a result the Japanese regarded the surrendering British forces as less than human and treated them accordingly, working them to death in brutal labour camps. My best friend at school’s dad was in the army in Burma at the end of the war. He saw the state of soldiers repatriated from the Japanese camps. As a result he refused to have anything Japanese in the house.

The Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh

The authors then move on to India for a quick description of the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS) which means the ‘National Volunteer Organisation’. Founded in 1925 this was a far-right, Hindu nationalist paramilitary organisation which aimed to instil ‘Hindu discipline’ in order to unite the Hindu community and establish a Hindu Rashtra (Hindu nation). Like the Nazis they aimed to create a new society based on racial purity, military discipline and sacrifice.

Osama bin Laden

Then, in this whistlestop tour, we are on to your friend and mine, the demon figure of the first decade of the 21st century, Osama bin Laden. The authors give quotes from an interview bin Laden gave after the 1996 al-Khobar Tower attack in Saudi Arabia. They say the language bin Laded uses of self-sacrifice, of suicide attacks, is emphatically not part of the Islamic mainstream tradition. In mainstream Islam dying in battle against the infidel is what creates justified martyrs; blowing yourself up along with unarmed civilians is something quite different, feared and despised by many Muslims as much as by Westerners.

They slightly contradict themselves by then describing the death cult of the Assassins, created in the 13th century for reasons which are still debated, and the pattern they set for being prepared to die for Islam in taking out an infidel opponent.

Anyway, whatever the precise roots there’s no denying that throughout the nineteenth century Muslim leaders called for jihad against western colonists and their godless capitalism, against their Jewish agents, and against native leaders who had been corrupted by their infidel ways.

Assassination

When I read this I immediately thought of President Anwar Sadat of Egypt. He was assassinated in 1981 by members of Egyptian Islamic Jihad for signing a peace treaty with Israel and instigating a crackdown on Islamic extremists, and so was painted as ‘a traitor to Islam’.

Sadat’s fate raises a general principle of Occidentalism which is that often opponents of the West aren’t actually opposed to the distant West, which they had never visited and of which they knew relatively little, so much as against the westernisers in their own society, political or social leaders who they blame for importing Western secular values. So they kill them.

Historically, the main embodiment of Muslim resistance to westernisation was the Muslim Brotherhood, founded in 1928 with the following manifesto:

‘God is our objective; the Qu’uran is our constitution; the Prophet is our leader; Struggle is our way; and death for the sake of God is our highest aspiration.’

Then, in another leap, the authors tell us that Japanese kamikaze tactics were adopted by the Hezbollah in the Lebanon with the 1983 Beirut barracks bombings which killed 241 US and 58 French military personnel.

Buruma and Margalit wrote this book before the US invaded Iraq in March 2003, an occupation which triggered an epidemic of suicide bombings by Sunni and Shias against the occupying forces.

Weimar

They conclude with a simple but crucial message. The Weimar Republic didn’t die because it was liquidated by Nazis, big business and the Army. It died because too few people were prepared to defend it. See the books on the subject by Peter Gay and Walter Laqueur. Passionate young men from the Right and the Left conspired to attack and undermine it at every opportunity. Nobody stood up for the boring, unromantic business of liberal democratic political life.

4. Mind of the West

Russian anti-westernism

Occidentalists accuse the West of being effective, technologically adroit, economically triumphant, and yet lacking the soul, depth, spirit and godliness which the critics, of course, pride themselves on having. I particularly despise the long tradition in Russian culture of belittling the frivolity and superficiality of France or Britain compared to the Great Russian Soul and its vast capacity for Noble Suffering. Tolstoy. Dostoyevsky. Occidentalists.

Dostoyevsky despised the West because it sought happiness and comfort whereas it should have been seeking salvation. And the route to salvation is via suffering. Only suffering brings wisdom. The West is afraid of suffering. The West can never be wise. Only a people devoted to suffering can be genuinely holy. The Russian soul welcomes and endures great suffering. Thus it is superior to everyone else’s.

Dostoyevsky and the propagandists for Russian suffering prepared the way (or just accurately reported the mindset) of the great Soviet barbarism of the twentieth century, the horrific civil war, the mass famines of Stalin, the huge gulags, total repression of civil society, the incredible death toll of the Great Patriotic War caused by Stalin’s ineptitude (and having massacred all his leading army officers) and Russian military readiness to sacrifice soldiers by the hecatomb in ways the Western Allies couldn’t believe. Still. Spiritual superiority, that’s what counts.

The line continues all the way through to Vladimir Putin. Putin sits in the main line of Russian cultural thought in despising, like Tolstoy, like Dostoyevsky, the decadence of Western liberalism, whose rapid end he has confidently predicted in numerous speeches.

Meanwhile, while he wastes his nation’s resources on a stupid nationalist war, the population of Mother Russia is going into decline as people flee Putin’s dictatorship or just die of ill health due to its wretched health problems.

Russia has the world’s 11th-largest economy but ranks 96th in life expectancy. Life expectancy for Russian men is 67, lower than in North Korea, Syria or Bangladesh. Still. Spiritual superiority, that’s what counts, eh.

The authors spend a long section describing ‘the love affair of Russians with their own soul’ and the achievement of nativist thinkers, loosely termed ‘Slavophiles’.

Anti-westernism’s German roots

In fact, counter-intuitively, Buruma and Margalit attribute Slavophilia, like so much anti-westernism, to German roots, specifically German Romanticism. Humiliated by Napoleon’s victories over them, conscious of their political backwardness (fragmented into scores of little princedom and dukedoms) German intellectuals, in a massive case of sour grapes, said worldly success didn’t matter, what mattered was what was in your soul. They compensated for their economic, social, political backwardness by asserting the supremacy of their spiritual life.

A spectrum

It occurs to me that there was a spectrum in the moving west to east across Europe in the nineteenth century. At the western extreme was Britain, economic powerhouse of the world but almost bereft of genuine art, philosophy or religion (sure it had the oppressive Church of England but this had little or no spiritualist tradition). Then came France, nearly as economically diverse as Britain, a good deal more artistic and philosophical. Then Germany, economically and politically backward but packed with ‘deep’ philosophers and its great musical tradition. Poland, which is never taken account of by anybody in these kinds of surveys. And finally Russia, the most economically and socially backward of European nations and, accordingly, possessed of a self-congratulatory sense of its immense spiritual superiority over everyone else.

In the authors’ view, to be blunt, it’s all the Germans’ fault. Extremely resentful of the military, economic and artistic success of Napoleon’s France, German Romantics compensated for national humiliation by working out the theory of the superior spiritual value of Das Volk and the nobility of dying for it.

Isaiah Berlin on German Romanticism

No less an authority than Isaiah Berlin thought this was the case and, moreover, thought the model the Germans worked out became a template which could be exported to all peoples who feel mocked and humiliated. The template was copied by the Russians during the nineteenth century and, as we’ve seen, adopted by Arab and Indian nationalists between the wars.

Buruma and Margalit summarise Berlin’s model. The German Romantic movement was the Counter-Enlightenment. It valued intuition and spirit over reason and calculation. It preferred heroes to shopkeepers. It looked back to a lost era of national and religious unity and looked forward to its glorious restoration.

On this view Nazism, Japanese fascism and Islamic fundamentalism are all the heirs to the original German Romantic anti-Westernism.

Russian Orthodox Christianity

The authors tell me things about Russian Christianity I didn’t know. They describe the messianic conviction that Moscow is a second Rome and only home to true Christianity. They explain that Russian Orthodox Christianity is far less interested in theology than Greek or Roman Christianity and far more concerned with custom and practice. Icons are more important than intellectual debate.

Intellectualism is suspect. And any kind of change is not needed. The thousand year old tradition of the Russian church suffices. Innovation tends to come from outside, representing threat and betrayal.

The authors give a potted history of Russia, with Peter the Great and Catherine the Great realising they had to import Western technology and ideas. Throughout the nineteenth century Russian intellectuals split into westernising and slavophile parties. They give potted biographies of individual westernisers. And they explain that for these men, the West meant Germany and its succession of Romantic philosophers.

As with Orientalism, all these Russian thinkers worked out their theories and defined themselves against the Other, the Other being a highly simplistic, stereotyped view of The West, a West which was materialistic, godless, mechanical, superficial, divided, corrupt and decadent, which lacked the soulfulness and the unity of people and purpose which characterised Mother Russia.

The triumph of will over reason

One major aspect of Occidentalism is the valorising of will over reason. Timid reason calculates the best course of action, tots up the pros and cons, a shopkeeper mentality. All this contrasts with the will which acts instinctively, in large glorious romantic causes. Following the footsteps of Friedrich Nietzsche, Hitler and the Nazis famously praised the Triumph of the Will over pettifogging rationalism. And so did nineteenth century Russians.

Konstantin Leontiev

The Russian Nietzsche was Konstantin Leontiev (1831 to 1891). He wrote a big book, Russia and Europe, which made a big splash. He was one of hundreds of late-nineteenth century philosophers and commentators who worked up an ‘organic’ theory of history i.e. that societies are like organisms which have a birth, a youth, a maturity and then a decay.

Surprise, surprise, Leontiev thought that the West with its decadent liberal democracy was in the last stages of decay. Exactly what Vladimir Putin thinks today, 150 years later. Continuities like this demonstrate that this is not a rational belief based on evidence, it is a prejudice, an unchanging tenet of anti-western bigotry, of Occidentalism.

The authors end the chapter with a brief history of the word nihilism which came to prominence, in Russia, in Ivan Turgenev’s novel Fathers and Sons. The chapter ends with more evidence of Dostoyevsky’s fanatical hatred of the West and fear that it’s godless, scientistic values were undermining the noble soul of Mother Russia.

5. The Wrath of God [Muslim fundamentalism]

 Buruma and Margalit draw a distinction between religious Occidentalism and secular Occidentalism. 

They say that Islamism is the form Occidentalism is taking in our time. What is new or unique is Islamism’s view that the West is guilty of barbarous idolatry and proceed to explain what this means, starting with a definition of idolatry.

They give a pocket history of the concept of idolatry which stems from the Jewish Bible. Here God is depicted as a jealous husband who is hurt when his Chosen People whore after strange gods. But obviously it has a deeper charge than that. God is also king of the universe, master of creation, source of existence. Denying God is the worst kind of blasphemy imaginable. In the Old Testament numerous kings and rulers are depicted as behaving as if they were as powerful as, or more powerful than, their creator, and demanding the veneration which is due to God.

So idolatry is giving to men the devotions and worship which are due to god. They discuss the meaning of Arab terms such as tajhiljahiliyya and jahili. jahiliyyahas been used to describe the religious ignorance which prevailed in Arabia before the advent of the Prophet Mohammed but also, more metaphorically, as the notion of barbarism, in the same way the ancient Greeks used it to refer to everyone who wasn’t Greek. At school I was told it was a joke term for people whose unGreek languages made them sound like they were saying ba-ba-ba-ba.

To summarise, the use of the term jahiliyya in Islamist discourse can be interpreted as referring to a new barbarism (godless idolatry) which originates from the West and is infecting the Muslim world.

The authors have a digression into the history of Manicheism, first as an actual belief system propounded by the Iranian prophet Mani (216 to 277 AD) then as the strand in most religions which posits an absolute divide between God and Evil. Then they show how ‘evil’ in most religious traditions is associated with the body, with its weakness, tendency to degrade and die, its distracting appetites, worst of which is, as we all know, sex. The body is contrasted with the soul which is taken to be immortal and the part of a human body which can approach or commune with god.

Ali Shari’ati

They discuss Ali Shari’ati (1933 to 1977), an Iranian Shia Muslim revolutionary and opponent of the westernising regime of the Shah. Shari’ati thought the best way for developing countries to fight back against the infection of godless western materialism was by rallying around their religious beliefs and traditions, in his case, Islam. He explicitly linked the influence of the West as encouraging Muslims to idolatry i.e. diverting worship away from God and towards the godless things of man i.e. money, consumer goods.

The industrial revolution made the West rich but it led to what sociologist Max Weber called ‘the disenchantment of the world’. It lost its magic and spirits. It lost God. And so all its goods and products are tainted by this tendency to disenchant and divert men’s worship from God to things. Idolatry.

Sayyid Qutb

The authors tell us about Islamic radical thinkers who fought back against the forces of secularism, for example Muhamed Taleqani in Iran, before returning to Sayyid Qutb, first mentioned in chapter 2.

For Qutb the whole world, from decadent Cairo to New York, was in a state of jahiliyya. He saw the West as a gigantic brothel, steeped in animal lust, greed and selfishness. Human thought, in the West, was ‘given the status of God.’ Material greed, immoral behaviour, inequality and political oppression would end only once the world was ruled by God and by His laws alone. The opportunity to die in a holy war would allow men to overcome selfish ambitions and corrupt oppressors (p.117)

One of the appeals of Islam is its egalitarianism: all men really are equal in the eyes of God in a way they rarely have been in the Christian West, and the Islamic dream is of a society where all men worship God, all laws derive from God, all behaviour is godly, and so it is literally impossible for large disparities in wealth or for corrupt immoral rulers ever to arise.

Qutb is given more space this time around, with a thumbnail biography describing the two years he spent in America to improve his English and which turned him into a West-hating Occidentalist. He also became a ferocious antisemite, literally believing in the famous forgery, The Elders of Zion and the ‘worldwide Jewish conspiracy’ and associating the global nature of finance capital with ‘Jewish bankers’ and so on. Schoolboy antisemitism.

To look at it another way, Qutb thought he was developing an approach which saved the noble and godly in human nature. The West wasn’t just godless, it actively worshipped the things of the body, the West is a cult of physical appetites, valuing food, drink, sex, holidays, fast cars, thus degrading human nature, instead of uplifting it through things of the soul by focusing solely on God. jahiliyya is the culture of animals or, worse, of humans who have thrown away their human attributes in a mad rush to become animals.

So, if Westerners have deliberately denied their humanity and turned themselves into animals, then they can be treated like animals, as worse than sub-humans. It’s this development of a train of thought which led him to consider all Westerners as sub-human which makes Qutb, as Buruma and Margalit out it, ‘the high priest of Occidentalism’ (p.121).

More, the world is in a state of war, between those who seek the righteousness of Islam and the rest. Even Islamic countries have been tainted to some extent by Western or secular innovations, and so jihad must be fought to overthrow idolatrous leaders. This is, obviously enough, an incitement to permanent warfare. You can see why it would appeal to zealous young men disgusted by the West, such as Mohamed Atta and so it explains the never-ending supply of young men prepared to take up arms to defend and assert radical Islam. But it just as easily explains why those societies, Islamic societies, will never be at peace with themselves. Libya, Egypt, Yemen, Syria, Iraq. Permanent war.

Abu-l-A’la Maudadi

Then we are introduced to Abu-l-A’la Maudadi (1903 to 1979) Islamic scholar, Islamist ideologue, Muslim philosopher, jurist, historian, journalist and activist, who is described (on his Wikipedia page) by Wilfred Cantwell Smith as ‘the most systematic thinker of modern Islam’.

The thing about all these Islamic thinkers is it’s hard to remember them because they all appear to have had the same pretty simple idea: Islam needed to reject the corruption of the West, purged of Western corruption, in order to become pure. Then everyone will live happy godly lives.

In practice Maudadi opposed Indian nationalism because it was Hindu, and democracy because it would impose majority Hindu values on Muslims. He said in a speech that anyone who voted would be a traitor to the Prophet and to God. He wanted to revive the early Caliphate (what Islamic fundamentalist doesn’t?).

Maudadid founded the Jamaat I-Islami Party which went on to be influential in the politics of the new country formed at the Partition of India, of Pakistan.

Tawhid and Muhammed Iqbal

Tawhid is the doctrine of the Unity of God. One of its proponents was Muhammed Iqbal (1877 to 1938) writer, philosopher and politician, considered by many to be ‘the spiritual father of Pakistan’. In his view human society should practice unity, harmony and justice in order to reflect the Unity of God. Against this settled social background each individual should be able to develop their individuality or khudi.

So, Buruma and Margalit ask, what was it that made Qutb an Occidentalist and Iqbal not? Partly it was personal psychology; Qutb was overwhelmed and disgusted by everything he experienced in America, whereas Iqbal enjoyed his British education and took a degree at Cambridge.

But basically Iqbal was tolerant. He thought there were many ways to God; the best way is Islam but there might be others for men of good faith. Qutb, by contrast took a fiercely Manichean view: there was the world of Islam and then everything else, which was full of sub-human barbarians. Qutb wrote:

Any society that is not Muslim is jahiliyya

And true believers need to take up jihad to enforce the rule of God in their nations. Permanent war.

Protestantism and liberalism

The authors then shift their ground to explain that the Reformation i.e. rebellion against the grip of the Roman Catholic Church, began the long process whereby religion and the personal sphere were separated out, in the Protestant countries of the West. The separation of church and state. The right to freedom of conscience, of belief, of religion.

And this is anathema to Islamists who insist there is not, there cannot be, a divide between religion and private belief or morality. Everyone must believe and worship the same, follow the same morality. This is why some critics of political Islam liken it to fascism. More accurately it might be likened to totalitarianism. Mussolini said: ‘Everything in the State, nothing outside the State, nothing against the State.’ Swap ‘Islam’ for state. Note the Morality Police in Saudi Arabia and Iran.

Women in Islam

Buruma and Margalit finally get around to the hugely contentious subject of women in Islam. They claim that many Muslims yearn for a return to traditional and community values. Islamic fundamentalism draws its support from a nostalgia for a return to proper Muslim values, which are associated with tradition beliefs and customs.

One of the central areas is the role and behaviour of women because in a patriarchal culture like Islam, the behaviour of women directly reflects on the honour of their menfolk, in a way most of us in the West just don’t understand.

Countless visitors to Muslim countries in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries observed the strict segregation of the sexes, the way women were completely invisible in many rural communities, or else were covered from head to foot in towns.

They zero in on the issue of the veil. The veil for women appears to have existed way before Islam there are depictions of it in pictures from the first century. Maybe Muslims copied it from the Byzantine Empire. It came to signify that the owner did not do manual labour i.e. became a status symbol.

During the independence struggle in Algeria many women took the veil as a proud assertion of their Islamic heritage and defiance of the French colonialists. But 50 years later, in the era of the Taliban, women are to be covered in what are effect shapeless sacks, completely denying their physicality, the assumption being that the merest glimpse of female flesh will cause an outbreak of ungodly fleshly thinking among surrounding men. In this respect ‘the veil’ is a symbol of a Manichean tension between the Spirit and the Body.

Wisely the authors don’t propose to delve deeper into the symbolism, meaning and all the debates raging around ‘the veil’, as fully explicating the history and then trying to find quotes in the Koran or the hadith to back up all the different opinions would keep us here till Doomsday.

Their book is not about Islamic beliefs and customs, it has the narrower focus of being about Muslim opinions about the West, in this case, Eastern views about Western women.

Islamic fundamentalists (and, the authors emphasise, Orthodox Jews) regard women’s dress and behaviour in the West as little better than prostitutes’. Here we’re back to Sayid Qutb’s opinion that Western immorality isn’t just bad, but degrades human beings to a level lower than animals. Animals don’t know any better, but humans do, and to reject what they know (of God’s demands for respect and morality) means they forfeit their humanity.

Also, in a patriarchal society, a woman is the ‘protected jewel’ in the crown of a man’s honour. Which means that how a man protects and defends his woman is a large part of his honour or identity. And here’s the point: Western men who relate to Western women as if they were just other citizens without any of the respect due to them in a Muslim country, show that they lack even the most basic sense of honour.

Wahhabism and Saudi Arabia

Three packed little pages which describe the alliance in the eighteenth century of fiercely puritanical preacher Muhammad Ibn Abd al-Wahhab and warlord Muhammad Ibn Saud. The warlord adopted the puritanical beliefs of the preacher and together they conquered the Holy Places. Then a lot of history as first the Ottomans and then the British took control of the Saudi peninsula, but by shrewd manoeuvring the family of the Sauds took control of the new kingdom and imposed an extremely fierce version of Islam on their population.

Then came the discovery of oil and these phenomenally strict Puritans found themselves among the richest people in the world. The result, say Buruma and Margalit, is an uneasy form of ‘officially sanctioned hypocrisy’, where the Saudi authorities impose a strict morality in public but live like Roman emperors in the privacy of their own palaces, or in their mansions in London and New York.

Saudi ‘hypocrisy’ would be of limited interest or importance if it weren’t for the fact that in the last decades of the twentieth century the Saudis began to export their form of intolerant Islam. As of 2004 the authors thought that:

Saudi Arabia is now the prime source of fundamentalist, puritanical ideology affecting Muslims everywhere, from North Africa to Indonesia. Oil money is used to promote religious radicalism around the world… (p.136)

That was 20 years ago, the trend has only increased since then, with Saudi involved not only in the Arab Spring uprisings and aftermaths, funding groups in Tunisia, Libya and Egypt, but also bankrolling sides in the ruinous civil wars in Syria and Yemen; and that’s before accounting for their promotion of their particularly virulent purist form of Islam in Muslim countries across North Africa and central Asia and into the Far East, in countries like Indonesia and Malaysia. And part of the package is a virulently anti-Western Occidentalist message.

6. Seeds of Revolution

A 12-page chapter on how the main venom of Occidentalism falls, even more than on distant America, on Israel. Eccentrically, they tackle this vast bottomless subject via a little known, unimportant novel published by the Theodor Herzl (1860 to 1904), the Austro-Hungarian Jewish journalist who was the father of modern political Zionism.

The Encyclopedia Britannica defines Zionism as a Jewish nationalist movement, originating in central and eastern Europe, that had for its goal the creation of a Jewish national state in Palestine, the ancient homeland of the Jews.

The novel was titled Altneuland which was translated into English as ‘The Old New Land’ when it was published in 1902. It’s apparently a huge text but the core of it is a vision of what Palestine will look like twenty years hence i.e. in 1922, after Palestine has been successfully occupied by Jews. The place has become a technological and economic miracle, the previously barren desert blooming, the previously rundown ports now full of cranes and ships, the rundown towns transformed into European-style cities with wide boulevards and cafes. Religion there is some, but hollowed out to become little more than the civic holidays of a mostly secular European culture.

Visitors to this brave new Jewish world marvel at the gleaming cities and high technology but find time to ask the one Arab in the book what he thinks, and he is overjoyed. Palestinian land-owners sold to the Jews for good prices, Palestinians are employed in all the new works, even the poor are lifted up by the rising standard of living. It’s win-win-win.

Of course it didn’t turn out that way and the modern state of Israel has become the number one hate figure for Arab politicians and Islamists throughout the region, a running sore in the Middle East which will, probably, never go away.

Anyway, the authors don’t really scratch the surface of the issue before proceeding to their rather rushed conclusion: this is that most of the nationalist responses to western imperialism borrowed western ideas to fight it with, whether they be the liberty-equality-fraternity of the French Revolution, the scientific positivism of Comte, the communism of Karl Marx, the anti-Enlightenment tropes of the German Romantics.

They move from Margalit’s home territory (Jerusalem/Israel) back to Buruma’s, Japan. He explains how the samurai leaders of Japan who realised in the 1860s that they needed to carry out a wholesale modernisation of their nation did so by importing selected Western ideas but also sparked a nativist nationalist backlash. But even this, although dressed in Japanese costume, borrowed ideas on how to run society from European fascists and the Nazis in particular.

They conclude that no Occidentalist can be free of ideas from the Occident. The modernisation of Japan gave rise to an anti-modern backlash which borrowed ideas and technology of the modern world in their effort to reject it. Same, they suggest, with Islamic fundamentalists. They loathe and fear western materialism, but communicate using laptops and mobile phones.

On almost the last page the authors start discussing the Ba’ath Party, which gained power in post-independence Syria and Iraq, and how it was forged in the 1930s from a combination of nostalgia for a holistic Arab community and ideas taken from European fascism. One of its theoreticians, Sati’ Husri, was a keen student of German Romantic theorists like Fichte and Herder who rejected the French Enlightenment by promoting the notion of the organic, völkisch nation united by blood and soil. This was translated by Husri into the Arab word asabiyya or (Arab) blood solidarity

The end of the book feels rushed and hurried. Only here do they make the big point that Arab ‘nationalist’ leaders have killed far more of their fellow Arabs than all the colonialists and Zionists put together, witness Saddam Hussein and Hafez al-Assad, who everyone thought was a cruel mass murderer until the Syrian civil war broke out in 2011 and we all discovered that his son, Bashar al-Assad, is even viler. Over half a million Arabs have died in the Syrian civil war.

What not to think

 Buruma and Margalit conclude with some very rushed thoughts. For a start they predict that the war against terror will mostly be fought within Arab states, against extremists. 

Secondly, they say the conflict is against a worldwide, loosely affiliated underground movement. (Presumably they mean al-Qaeda, though they don’t say so.)

As to the first prediction, now, in 2023, 20 years after the book was written, we know that America went ahead with its idiotically badly conceived invasion of Iraq, which on the face of it was an invasion by a foreign power, but that this triggered the collapse of Iraq into prolonged civil war and ethnic cleansing. The ‘within states’ thesis was more dramatically proven by the Arab Spring which led to the disintegration of the states of Libya and Syria, turmoil in Egypt, and a cruel civil war in Yemen. Presumably al-Qaeda and all its affiliates wanted to create pure Islamic states or restore the Caliphate, but they’ve turned out to be part of a process which has destabilised and wrecked much of the Arab world. My view is that it’s their culture, they’re their countries, we’ve interfered enough in that part of the world (and too many other parts of the world, too). Let them sort it out.

Buruma and Margalit say we shouldn’t be paralysed by ‘colonial guilt’ but I think we’re way beyond that now. Every time we intervene we make things worse. We turned Iraq into an abattoir. The Yanks spent a trillion dollars in Afghanistan over 20 years and look at it now: still the poorest country in the world and back to being ruled by the Taliban.

The West intervened in Libya to prevent Gaddafi massacring protesters in Benghazi but didn’t follow it through by leading and uniting the opposition which, instead, collapsed into regional factions, so that twelve years later, Libya has no one central government.

Total intervention, as in Iraq or Afghanistan, failed.

Partial intervention, as in Libya, failed.

I suggest the only viable policy is complete non-intervention as the West, in effect, is doing in Syria.

If Arabs and Muslims want to spend decades massacring each other, it’s not so much that we don’t want to intervene, or don’t have a moral duty or whatever to intervene; it’s more that we’ve tried intervening, in different countries in different ways, and almost always we make it worse. Non-intervention seems to me the only responsible policy.

This book was written when the Western world was reeling from the 9/11 attacks which everybody felt turned the world on its axis and introduced a whole new era. There was felt to be an urgent need for commentary and analysis, not least explanations of what Islamic fundamentalism was and why the terrorists hated us so much. This book was an interesting attempt to fill that gap.

By the end, although it contains lots of references to specific writers and theories, it feels somehow rushed and superficial. Buruma and Margalit’s thesis, which they repeat half a dozen times, is that German Romantic writers of the early nineteenth century developed a worldview opposing the rational scientific values of the French Enlightenment and Revolution, and this template for opposing all the forces of ‘modernity’ was then taken up by intellectuals in other countries which resented the way the godless materialism of Britain and France seemed to be destroying traditional values, in countries as far afield as Russia, China, Japan and India, and, in the twentieth century got mixed into the anger, resentment and humiliation of a number of Arab and Muslim theorists and theologians.

Their basic idea is that opposition to the West, and the negative stereotypes which its enemies use to characterise it which the authors call Occidentalism, began in the West and always carries the spoor of its Western origins.

However, it’s a long time since 9/11. Now, in 2023, it feels like a lot of the excitement, paranoia and hyperbole of that era has drained away. The Arab Spring, then the Arab Winter, then the collapse of Libya, Syria and Yemen, changed the landscape. Up till then Arab nationalists and radical Islamists believed that all they had to do was overthrow the ageing dictators who in one way or another had imposed Western ideas (nationalism, socialism, science) onto their peoples, and the purified, communal, traditional Islam of the good old days would rush back in to restore the Caliphate. Instead , when the dictators were overthrown, first in Iraq, then Tunisia, Libya, Egypt, with the vain attempt to do so in Syria, the result wasn’t the Unity of Islam but chaos and massacre.

Al Qaeda affiliates across North Africa continue to terrorise their countrymen but they will never be able to seize power; all they do is create the chaotic conditions in which warlords and mercenaries like the Wagner group thrive (in places like Chad, Mali or the Central African Republic or the wretched failed state of Somalia), while political and military leaders with no principles overthrow each other in naked bids for power, as in the utterly pointless Sudanese Civil War.

Piled onto all this is the relentless degradation of the environment of the Arab world, which is only going to get hotter and hotter, with evermore water shortages and the loss of evermore agricultural and even pasturing land. A lot of the Arab world is going to become a hellish place to live.

So the situation is massively more screwed up than when Buruma and Margalit wrote this book and their scholarly shuffling through tomes by Herder and Fichte, Schelling and Nietzsche, Dostoyevsky and Tolstoy, feels like bookish trip down memory lane. Then again maybe they were right to stick to the library; their treatment of the role of Israel in all this, approached through Theodor Herzl’s novel and a half page description of modern Jerusalem, feels entirely inadequate.

Either way, ahead lies total chaos in which the Occidentalism they describe and define will seem increasingly irrelevant to an Arab world collapsing into endless civil war and social collapse. The West wasn’t behind the Arab Springs, that was what so excited the protesters, they were entirely homemade, of domestic Arab and Muslim origin. But so was the chaos and collapse they brought in their wake, of entirely Arab and Muslim origin. It’s their countries, their people, their problems. We’ve intervened too many times. We shouldn’t get involved.


Credit

Occidentalism: A Short History of Anti-Westernism by Ian Buruma and Avishai Margalit was published in 2004 by Atlantic Books. References are to the 2005 Atlantic Books paperback edition.

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