Steven Metz
The anniversary of 9/11 has become an annual opportunity for soul-searching, for Americans to take stock of where they stand not only in the ongoing conflict with violent jihadism but more broadly as a nation. One thing stood out this year: Americans are more pessimistic about the struggle against al-Qaida and its offshoots than at any time since Sept. 11, 2001. In a sense, this is understandable. The United States is still mired in Afghanistan and Iraq with no sign of victory. Jihadism persists in many parts of the Islamic world and is even spreading to new regions. It continues to attract recruits. In fact, al-Qaida may be stronger now than ever. Domestically, the United States is bitterly divided by hyperpartisanship, political tribalism and an escalating culture war. Since 9/11, the United States has spent an estimated $2.8 trillion on counterterrorism, adding to the massive federal budget deficit. And there is no end in sight.
All this has led some Americans to conclude that al-Qaida is winning, or already has won. Reality, though, is more nuanced and complex. A case can be made that while the United States made major mistakes in its conflict with violent jihadism, it mostly has been successful.
To understand that requires unpacking al-Qaida’s strategy. A net assessment of the conflict must take into account what the extremists are after. Al-Qaida is a revolutionary movement, seeking to destroy what it considers a U.S.-dominated global economic and political system, expel Western influence from the historically defined Islamic world, and recreate a version of the Islamic caliphate that was ascendant a thousand years ago, though this was more of a far-off fantasy for Osama bin Laden.
Like many weak revolutionary movements, al-Qaida’s strategy has relied on insurgency. The reasons for this are mostly political and psychological, but al-Qaida also uses violence for three things: to weaken the will of the dominant power that insurgents are fighting; to gain attention and draw recruits; and to provoke the dominant power into a reaction or overreaction that might shift support to the insurgents. Al-Qaida’s terrorism campaign is aimed at all three.
This has worked to an extent. The 9/11 attacks pushed the United States, imbued with hubris, into misguided and expensive wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, both based on deeply flawed notions of what it would take to transform those places into stable nations free from violent jihadism. With hindsight, the United States would have done better to have either truly transformed Iraq and Afghanistan via massive occupations possibly lasting many decades, or not attempted at all.
Patience does not come naturally to Americans. That may be the one glimmer of hope that al-Qaida has.
9/11 also drew attention to al-Qaida and brought it support, but not in the way that bin Laden expected. He thought that many or most Muslims would rally to al-Qaida’s cause. Instead, most Muslims have been repulsed by the movement’s extremism and violence, even if they share its preference for an Islamic resurgence. Most of the recruits that al-Qaida has attracted are angry losers on the periphery of society, rather than the Islamic world’s best and brightest. And 9/11 did not weaken American national will but instead amplified it far beyond what bin Laden and his henchmen expected.
On this point, then, al-Qaida’s strategy has failed, undone by paralyzing misperceptions and flawed assumptions. The global revolution it sought to engineer is a bust. It can kill and survive but do little beyond that. America’s homeland security and counterterrorism capabilities are immensely greater than they were before hijacked passenger jets were flown into the World Trade Center, the Pentagon and a Pennsylvania field, and they likely will keep al-Qaida on the run and in perpetual fear. The “caliphate” bin Laden dreamed of remains elusive and probably impossible.
The United States admittedly would be in a better position had it not poured massive amounts of treasure and blood into Iraq and Afghanistan, or paid for those campaigns up front rather than putting them on the national credit card. But even so, the American economy is resilient and robust at least in the short term. While Americans have been forced to sacrifice some personal privacy in the name of security, they have also adjusted. The United States faces daunting domestic political problems, but they have little to do with violent jihadism. Their roots lie elsewhere.
The biggest enduring security challenge for America 17 years after 9/11 is an asymmetry of patience. Like all movements using the strategy of insurgency, al-Qaida knew that it would take years, even generations to redress the imbalance between it and its enemies. Its strategy and its worldview are predicated on a very long-term perspective.
In the initial years after 9/11, the United States seemed to grasp what it faced in al-Qaida. President George W. Bush’s 2006 National Strategy for Combating Terrorism, whose outlines still shape U.S. security policy today, clearly stated that “the War on Terror will be a long war.” Bush constantly reminded the public of that reality, but his successors have not. Unfortunately, patience does not come naturally to Americans. That may be the one glimmer of hope that al-Qaida has.
This week’s national introspection focused appropriately on those who have sacrificed in the conflict. But what was missing was a reminder from national leaders, particularly President Donald Trump, that the struggle will continue far into the future. Even when American involvement in Iraq and Afghanistan finally ends, even if the United States stops thinking of the conflict with violent jihadism as a “war,” the mission will be passed to future generations. At this point, al-Qaida has not won and is not winning. But Americans must always remember that the ultimate outcome still hangs in the balance.
Steven Metz is the author of “Iraq and the Evolution of American Strategy.” His weekly WPR column appears every Friday. You can follow him on Twitter @steven_metz.
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