Ranj Alaaldin
A momentum toward conflict could intensify if U.S. personnel are attacked or if the U.S. were to preemptively strike Shiite militias in Iraq or elsewhere in the region. Iraq could end up falling victim to a potential conflict. The war-fatigued country is an important arena for pushing back against Iranian influence. Some of the region’s most powerful Iranian proxy groups are Iraqi groups that honed their battlefield superiority against U.S. forces after the 2003 invasion of Iraq, and during sectarian conflicts between Iraq’s Arab Sunnis and Shiites.
Conflict—were it to break out—between the U.S. and Iran on Iraqi soil would disrupt a delicate political equilibrium that has emerged since last year’s elections and the territorial defeat of ISIS. America’s timing could not be worse. The power-sharing consensus is still fragile and vulnerable, to the extent that a major disruption could lead to a political implosion in Baghdad.
Such an implosion would almost certainly trigger deadly clashes in a political environment that is still defined by zero-sum, battle-for-survival politics, arguably even a civil war. The tone is already being set: Powerful cleric Muqtada al-Sadr, who commands a militia that has fought deadly battles with Iran’s proxies, has already delivered a stark warning that any attempt to draw Iraq into a U.S.-Iran conflict would be akin to declaring war on all Iraqis.
The U.S. must grasp the magnitude of the crisis Iraq could face if a clash with Iran draws in Iran’s proxies. That could result in a series of unintended consequences and second-order effects that might lead to substantial domestic bloodshed, the resurgence of ISIS, and a revival of sectarian conflict. Such violent instability will enable precisely the kind of environment in which Iran’s proxies thrive.
The U.S. must grasp the magnitude of the crisis Iraq could face if a clash with Iran draws in Iran’s proxies.
A PRIMER ON IRAQ’S SHIITE MILITIAS
Iraq’s Shiite militia groups—like Ketaib Hezbollah, Harakat al-Nujaba, and Asaib ahl al-Haq—have established themselves as powerful transnational actors whose ambitions and fighting capabilities extends far beyond the territorial borders of Iraq. Some have been critical to the Assad regime’s victories in Syria, for instance.
Any possible U.S. confrontation with Iran would need to incorporate a strategy that secures a favorable Iraqi political landscape in the aftermath, one that enhances U.S. leverage in Iraq and ensures Iran’s influence is not reinforced in the future.
Importantly, Iran’s proxies in Iraq are more than militia groups and more than simply Iranian proxies. They are resource-rich actors who are heavily entrenched in the Iraqi political system. They contest elections and hold seats in parliament. Their fighters are constitutionally mandated as members of the Iraqi armed forces, providing them with salaries from the Iraqi national budget.
Most importantly, Iran-aligned groups have considerable arms and finances that also allow them to operate independently of the state and confront Iraq’s conventional armed forces where necessary. In other words, the Iraqi government is too weak to rein in militias that have the capacity and willingness to turn Iraq into a launching pad for attacks on the U.S.
THE US LEGACY IN IRAQ
These are not new lessons. Since 2011 the U.S. has been its own worst enemy. It has been a bystander to expanded Iranian influence in Iraq since the withdrawal of its troops in 2011, when the Obama administration left a political and security void that was immediately filled by Iran. Following the withdrawal, militia groups re-mobilized, band-wagoning with parties such as the then-ruling Islamic Dawa Party, which equipped them with state resources, status, and greater legitimacy.
Under America’s watch, then-Prime Minister Nouri al-Maliki (backed by Washington) marginalized and suppressed leading Arab Sunni figures, many of whom were vehemently against Iranian meddling in Iraq. The Iraqi army was also mismanaged and corrupted, resulting in its fall when ISIS seized Mosul in 2014.
The rise of ISIS in 2014 was arguably the most seminal moment in the history of Iraq’s Shiite militias, who filled the security vacuum left by the collapse of the army. U.S. intervention in Iraq to defeat a brutal terrorist organization was imperative, and Washington and Tehran found a common enemy. But U.S. resources and weapons ended up in the hands of Iran-aligned groups and, despite its substantial contribution to the defeat of ISIS, the U.S. failed to devise policies to contain those groups’ prominence over the past five years.
The U.S. and Iran found themselves on the same side yet again in September 2017, this time against longstanding U.S. allies the Kurds. Both opposed the Kurdish independence referendum, but it was Iran that capitalized on the resulting domestic and regional fractures, exploiting tensions between the Kurdish capital of Erbil and Baghdad to ultimately shape a post-referendum environment conducive to its expanded influence. The United States, in contrast, didn’t even try to forge a settlement between Erbil and Baghdad and became a mere observer of the politics that followed. It even recklessly declared it would not come to the Kurds’ aid if any hostile actors moved on the Peshmerga (effectively a green light for Iran’s proxies).
Indeed, one month later, Iran orchestrated a military offensive into Kirkuk, an operation that involved the use of U.S. Abrams tanks against the Peshmerga. Kurdistan was once a critical front line for containing Iran, but the Kurdish leadership is now focused on establishing constructive relations with Iran, a powerful neighbor that the Kurds learned they could ill-afford to aggravate.
WHAT THE US SHOULD DO
These events show that containing Iran requires an appreciation for the episodic moments that can collectively or individually shift the balance of power in Tehran’s favor. Learning from these mistakes is critical to shaping a landscape that provides Washington with a competitive edge over Iran. The U.S. must play the long game.
A political strategy can re-mobilize America’s allies and help right the wrongs of the past. This will be an admittedly difficult strategy, especially during its formative stages, since Washington’s friends are too bruised, bloodied, and fatigued—and too distrustful of America’s intentions. That trust must be restored, since those friends could still be a critical U.S. vanguard but would also be the first casualties in a potential conflict.
A more belligerent U.S. policy is already forcing Iran and its proxies to look over their shoulder and has even forced a more moderate tone from these actors in recent days. Washington’s goal should be twofold: creating a favorable political environment that suppresses the malign actions of Iran’s proxies, and empowering and providing a safety net for U.S.-aligned groups.
The U.S. should firstly reinforce and strengthen Prime Minister Adel Mahdi and prevent his rivals from attempting to force his downfall. That requires reining in former prime-minister Haidar al-Abadi and mobilizing a political coalition with the support of the British and Europeans to prevent him and his allies from continuing to undermine Mahdi.
Abadi was a favorite in Washington and London, which backed him vehemently at great expense to stability and traditionally Western-aligned Iraqi factions. Although some in Washington and elsewhere may still be supporting his return to the helm, that would be catastrophic for Iraq and the U.S. Abadi came in a disastrous third place in the 2018 elections, leaving a toxic legacy because of his poor governance and the immense public mistrust in the government that followed.
Prime Minister Mahdi is satisfying the legitimate interests of once-alienated communities. A proactive and politically interventionist U.S. role—backed by the threat of U.S. military intervention—can help forge a pathway toward a political climate in Baghdad that is conducive to a healthy balance of power domestically; one that allows the Iraqi government to balance its relations with the U.S. and Iran and that also enables viable and functioning institutions.
The U.S. must also develop a sustainable policy for those situations where its allies are militarily weaker or disadvantaged in the face of far superior opponents, but where it is unwilling or unable to provide those actors with heavy weaponry to defend themselves. In situations like those that unfolded in Kirkuk in 2017, the U.S. must draw and enforce red lines to ensure that the balance of power does not shift in Iran’s favor. Iran’s proxies are also banking on the U.S. disengaging at some point. Will the U.S. stay or go? Building on the current troop levels or making it clear to friends and enemies alike that the U.S. is here to stay for some time will go a long way toward reassuring America’s allies and maintaining a check on Iran’s attempts to solidify its influence in Iraq.
The U.S. could opt to play the role of disruptor, giving Iran-aligned groups a bloody nose and engulfing Iraq in tumult and armed conflict in the process. But toward what end? The net result is the suppression of the groups that have longed for the containment of Iran or, alternatively, a healthy of balance of power in a country that has increasingly shifted into Iran’s orbit. These are the political elites, social movements, and civil society actors that seek and have invested in establishing the sort of environment that suppresses the space for militia groups.
Once again, U.S.-Japanese relations are diverging between strategic cooperation and economic competition — a long established pattern.
Trade disputes are not uncommon between the two countries: The United States actively challenged Japan's economic might in the midst of the Cold War, despite being dependent on the strategic position of its key Pacific ally.
The rise of China has brought Japan out of its economic malaise, and Tokyo is rapidly moving away from the postwar prohibitions of the Yoshida Doctrine and Article 9 of the Japanese Constitution.
Even as the United States and Japan struggle with a trade imbalance, there is a growing alignment of interests and actions when it comes to the strategic question of managing China.
U.S. President Donald Trump's Memorial Day weekend visit to Japan serves as a reminder of the complex relationship between the United States and Japan. In addition to ceremonial events, meeting the new emperor and visiting U.S. military personnel, President Trump held discussions with Prime Minister Shinzo Abe about trade frictions (driven by the United States' nearly $68 billion trade deficit with Japan) and regional security concerns ranging from North Korea to China to Iran. This contrast between bilateral trade competition and mutual security cooperation in many ways exemplifies the modern U.S.-Japan relationship.
The Big Picture
Japan is a critical component of U.S. defense architecture in the Indo-Pacific, but it is also a strategic economic competitor with the United States. The dual nature of this relationship creates a dynamic tension between the two allies, but an emergent China and a renewed U.S. focus on great power competition keeps the interests of Washington and Tokyo largely aligned, despite their trade disagreements.
Mutual and Conflicting Interests
U.S.-Japanese security and economic interests have been intertwined and often at odds with one another. This has played out through recent history, from the time Commodore Matthew Perry's "Black Ships" sailed into Edo Bay in 1853, through the post-World War I distribution of territories and the 1922 Washington Naval Treaty, to U.S. restrictions on Japanese access to key industrial resources in the late 1930s and beyond. This duality was further ensconced after World War II and has defined modern U.S.-Japanese relations. In what later became known as the Yoshida Doctrine, for then-Prime Minister Shigeru Yoshida, Japan largely relegated its national security and defense to the United States and instead focused its resources and efforts on reconstruction and building a modern economy.
Japan's strategic location in the Pacific gave Tokyo quite a bit of leeway in its relationship with the United States. The outbreak of the Korean War in June 1950 solidified Japan as a key component of the U.S. defense architecture to contain the spread of communism in Asia, with Japan serving as an off-shore support base for U.S. operations in Korea and later in Indochina. The 1951 Security Treaty between the two, which would undergo several evolutions, provided basing rights for the United States and strengthened the importance of Japan in U.S. defense planning and posture. Japan's location also served U.S. efforts to bottle up the Soviet Pacific Fleet during the Cold War.
Though Washington convinced Japan to stand up its Self-Defense Forces, Tokyo often held firmly to the Yoshida Doctrine, limiting its own indigenous military capacity while building up its economic might. Japan provided financial support for U.S. basing (effectively outsourcing its own national defense) and moved rapidly from an import substitution economy to that of an industrial powerhouse. The phrase "Made in Japan" underwent a radical transformation, from being a sign of cheap goods to an indicator of leading high-end technology and quality manufacturing. Initially, Japan's economic focus over security responsibilities drew quiet criticism from the U.S. over Tokyo not pulling its weight in the alliance, but until the early 1990s, this was mostly rhetoric rather than any serious bone of contention.
Rising Trade Discord
The first major crisis in trade between the United States and Japan began in 1973 with the Arab oil embargo, triggered by the Yom Kippur War. The resulting oil shock opened the way for a brief but significant surge in Japanese auto sales in the United States. Japanese car sales picked up again in the late 1970s, at a time when U.S. automakers were facing rising economic problems of their own, and the competition led to outbreaks of rhetorical (and at times literal) "Japan bashing," leading Tokyo to apply voluntary export restrictions by 1981 to try and ease trade tensions. The automotive industry was an early focus of competition, but throughout the 1980s it was the emerging high technology arena that became a key focal point. The rising trade dispute was further heightened by expanding Japanese investments in the United States, raising cries of America being sold to Japan.
By the late 1980s, U.S. and Japanese trade frictions had come to a head. Inside Japan, a nascent sense of nationalism had emerged during the previous decade, and in 1989 then-Minister of Transport (and later Tokyo Governor) Shintaro Ishihara penned a book with Sony Chairman Akio Morita titled "The Japan That Can Say No." The book echoed the sentiment that Japan had left its national interests in U.S. hands for too long, and it was time for the country to stand up, assert its own position and say "no" to U.S. demands. Amid the small but significant camp calling for a stronger and more independent Japan, and given rising anti-Japanese sentiment in the United States, Washington used a combination of unilateral and multilateral dialogues and diplomatic tools to chip away at what it portrayed as Japan's unfair trade practices.
The mismatch between U.S. security and economic interests that was obvious during Trump's visit to Japan is not an anomaly but a baseline element of the relationship between the two Pacific partners.
The result was the floating of the Japanese yen, changes in investment and industrial policies, and as a secondary consequence the decline of Japan from a rapidly growing economic power to a country that slipped into 25 years of relative economic malaise. Significantly, Washington targeted the Japanese economy even in the midst of the Cold War, at a time when the United States was deeply at odds with the Soviet Union, and thus where the Japanese alliance was a critical security component. The apparent mismatch between U.S. security and economic interests that was obvious during Trump's recent visit to Japan, then, is not an anomaly but is rather a baseline element of the relationship between the two Pacific partners.
Continuing a Pattern of Past Relations
In this context, what appears on the surface to be counterintuitive — engaging in strategic competition with China while simultaneously attacking trade relations with key ally Japan — matches a pattern of past relations. The structure of the U.S. government and society frequently leads to seemingly contradictory policies on economic and national security interests, in contrast to countries like China or even Japan in the 1960s through the 1980s. For Tokyo, this is not a new situation, nor is it one that the Japanese perceive as fundamentally straining their security relationship with the United States. In many ways, that aspect of the alliance is growing even more significant as Japan moves further away from its strict interpretation of both the Yoshida Doctrine and the war-renouncing Article 9 of the Japanese Constitution. Tokyo no longer sees its national security as something to leave in U.S. hands, but neither does it see an advantage in breaking from the U.S. security orbit.
Over the past several decades, Japan has slowly but steadily moved its defense capabilities from being a supplement to U.S. forces to be a complement to them. And, in some ways, it has even begun to take on some regional security responsibilities itself. This was driven by a combination of factors: The evolving North Korean security situation beginning in the late 1990s; the rise of China, particularly over the past decade; and by the more recent encouragement of the United States for its regional allies to take on more local responsibility. Washington wants to reframe burden sharing from primarily financial and basing support to concrete action, encouraging its allies and partners in the Indo-Pacific to take on more responsibility. And Japan is now ready to reemerge from its quarter-century malaise.
Japan's strategic location, advanced technological know-how, and parallel interest in countering a rapidly rising China reinforce its ongoing and expanding security cooperation with the United States. At the same time, Tokyo's advanced economy and primary position as a maritime trading nation continue to stir competition in its relations with the United States. It is this duality that defines U.S.-Japan relations, and it is something that is unlikely to fade away any time soon.
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