September 19, 2006
AMERICAN EMPIRE
Tipping Points and Imperial Meltdown
By Joseph E. Fallon
Tipping points have occurred in
Afghanistan, Iraq, and Somalia that signal the beginning
of a meltdown of the American Empire.
In war, a "tipping point"
may be defined as an event so dramatic, often so
unexpected, that it has a psychological impact on the
momentum of the war itself. It adversely affects the
morale of the troops, the political leadership, and the
civilians of one of the belligerents. And it frequently
portends ultimate defeat.
In the waging of three major wars
over the last half of the 20th century, the U.S.
government experienced the psychological impact of a
"tipping point." In World War II, it was the
Battle of Midway (June 4-7, 1942). It occurred six
months after Pearl Harbor and took the Japanese by
surprise, destroying a significant portion of their
fleet, including four of their navy’s ten aircraft
carriers, the principal weapons of naval warfare. It
stopped further Japanese expansion in the Pacific and
shifted the war’s psychological momentum in America’s
favor.
In the Korean War, U.N. forces had
been driven to Pusan in the southeast tip of Korea and
faced defeat. Gen. Douglas MacArthur’s dramatic arrival
at Incheon on September 15, 1950, was a tipping point.
By unexpectedly landing U.N. military forces behind
enemy lines, MacArthur threatened communist
communication and supply lines, forcing North Korean
troops to retreat. This action dramatically shifted the
psychological momentum of the war in favor of the
Americans—albeit temporarily. Another tipping point
occurred on November 26, 1950, when
Red China unexpectedly intervened with her army of
"volunteers," numbering 780,000. A military
stalemate was the ultimate result.
In the Vietnam War, the Tet
Offensive by the North Vietnamese and Viet Cong
(beginning on January 30, 1968) was the tipping point.
Although the U.S. military technically prevailed, the
Americans
"lost" the propaganda
war because the Tet Offensive was so
dramatic and unexpected. Since 1965, the Johnson
administration had been assuring the American public
that victory was in sight. Through weekly updates
enumerating the body counts of enemy dead, Washington
had been attempting to convince Americans that the North
Vietnamese forces were being destroyed. Then, an
estimated 85,000 Communist troops launched the six-month
offensive throughout South Vietnam, including on her
capital, Saigon. To an increasing number of Americans,
Johnson lost credibility, and the war looked unwinnable.
The psychological momentum, thereafter, favored the
North Vietnamese.
Thirty years later, the world is a
radically different place. The United States has been
transformed into a global empire, through the foreign
policy of the neoconservatives, many of whom are
ex-Trotskyites. They lobbied Washington to pursue world
hegemony, and they got it. They lobbied the U.S.
government to wage war against Islam, what they called
World War IV, and they got that, too. Now, we have to
deal with the consequences.
The American Empire is
overstretched—militarily, financially, and
psychologically. In Afghanistan, the bloody riots that
engulfed the capital city of Kabul on
May 29, 2006, can be seen as a tipping point in that
war. Previously, the city had been secure; it was the
only city, in fact, that the U.S.-installed Karzai
administration actually controlled. The predominantly
Tajik population had opposed the Taliban (mainly ethnic
Pashtuns) and was pro-American. But when a U.S.-military
convoy
accidentally rammed a line of 12 cars during rush
hour, killing either one Afghani (according to the U.S
embassy) or as many as eight (according to a local TV
station), Kabul erupted in anti-American violence.
A growing number of angry Afghans
quickly gathered at the site of the traffic accident to
protest. Soon, a mob of 500 was hurling rocks at the
Americans and chanting, "Death to America!" and
"Death to Karzai!" In "self-defense," U.S.
troops responded by opening fire either on or over the
hostile crowd. At least seven Afghans were reported
killed.
The shooting provoked a riot. Some
Afghans marched on parliament, the presidential palace,
the American and British embassies, and other Western
missions to protest. Others ransacked local shops and
international aid offices; burned U.S. flags, several
cars, and a police station; and engaged the authorities
in running gun battles, which lasted for hours. To curb
the violence, a nighttime curfew was imposed. The
damage, however, was already done. In addition to 20
Afghans killed and 100 wounded, there was the
psychological impact of the riots. A significant portion
of the population of Kabul was now openly anti-American.
This anti-Americanism expresses
itself in the vocabulary of a pan-Afghan nationalism and
a common Islamic identity, both of which are perceived
by many Afghans to be threatened by the United States.
And this vocabulary is uniting former enemies—the Tajiks
of the Northern Alliance and the Pashtuns of the Taliban.
The former are now accused of helping to arm the latter.
Why is this happening? The Northern
Alliance represents Tajiks, the second-largest ethnic
group in Afghanistan, constituting 27 percent of the
total population. It was the principal military force on
which the United States relied to overthrow the Taliban.
Now, the Northern Alliance feels betrayed by the Bush
administration. They believe the U.S. government
encouraged Karzai to remove Northern Alliance members
from important posts in the central government and that
Washington is behind Karzai’s subjection of the Tajiks
to a policy of benign neglect. International aid for
reconstruction and development is allocated to other
regions or siphoned off through corruption. Little of
the needed funds are allocated to Tajik-inhabited
regions, such as the Panjshir Valley.
Together, the Tajiks and Pashtuns
make up 70 percent of the population of Afghanistan. If
they continue to explore any kind of anti-American
alliance, the U.S. government does not have the military
capabilities in country to defeat them.
In Iraq, the U.S. government has
hoped that the killing of the Jordanian-born Al Qaeda
leader Abu Musab al-Zarqawi was a tipping point,
shifting the psychological momentum to the Americans.
The Bush administration is counting on a reduction in
the violence of the Sunni-Shiite civil war that Zarqawi
helped to foment. This civil war, though based on
deep-seated religious animosities, has been inflamed by
both the reality and the perception of actions
undertaken by the U.S. government and the
Shiite-dominated Iraqi government. Zarqawi only
exploited the anger that already existed among Sunnis,
which hasn’t dissipated with his death.
Perhaps the alleged massacre (and
subsequent cover-up) by U.S. Marines on November 19,
2005, of 15 unarmed civilians, including seven women and
three children, in the city of Haditha was the real
tipping point. When the results of ongoing
investigations are made public, many Americans may start
to view this war as having a dehumanizing effect on the
troops, turning soldiers into murderers, and more will
demand that they be brought home now. The psychological
momentum among Americans would then shift away from
maintaining a continued American presence in Iraq. If
additional allegations of atrocities against civilians
by U.S. troops in Iraq bear fruit, it is difficult to
see how Washington will be able to retain a significant
military presence in Iraq or in any other Arab state in
the region.
In Somalia, the U.S. government
pursued a policy that achieved the opposite of what it
intended. For the last 15 years—since the collapse of
the state in 1991 and the effective partition of the
country and the capital, Mogadishu, among rival
warlords—Somalis have lacked physical security and
rudimentary social services. This deteriorating
situation led to the emergence in recent years of an
Islamic court system based on sharia, which has been
embraced by the Somalis because it provides schooling
and health care.
Washington, however, opposes these
Islamic courts, claiming that they are sympathetic to,
if not allies of, Al Qaeda. According to the
Bush administration,
"The
United States is concerned that in this environment al-Qa’eda
may use Somalia for a base for terrorist activities
around the globe. Around the world the United States
will work with regional and international partners to
prevent countries becoming terrorist safe havens."
Convinced that the Islamic courts
had to be suppressed, the Bush administration quietly
armed the warlords, who now call themselves the Alliance
for the Restoration of Peace and Counter-terrorism;
Washington is funding their war against the Islamic
courts to the tune of $100,000 per month. Despite their
violations of human rights and the fact that they had
killed U.S. troops in Mogadishu in 1993, the warlords
became American allies in the "War on Terror."
After months of fighting, a tipping
point came on June 6, 2006, when the Union of Islamic
Courts defeated the U.S.-backed warlords and seized
control of Mogadishu, after many troops of the warlords
had switched sides. The goal of the victors is to unify
the country under sharia. Thus, the Union of Islamic
Courts is negotiating with the U.N.-backed Somalian
government, which, while internationally recognized,
controls little territory.
The psychological impact of this
defeat for the U.S. government has reverberated
throughout the Muslim world. To Muslims, Somalia
reversed the trend of U.S. hegemony, and this has won
new converts to Islamic "fundamentalism." And the
suffering and death of Somalis at the hands of the
U.S.-backed warlords swelled the ranks of potential
terrorists and suicide bombers.
The continued existence of the
American Empire depends on its ability to defeat any
adversary, any time, anywhere. The events in
Afghanistan, Iraq, and Somalia have revealed to the
world that Washington does not have that power. The
imperial meltdown has begun.
Joseph E. Fallon writes from
Rye, New York.
This article first appeared in
the
December 2006 issue of Chronicles: A Magazine of
American Culture.