Reason Magazine - Contributors

A Useless, Intrusive P.R. Display

carpent@cato.org (Ted Galen Carpenter) cpena@cato.org (Charles Peña) — Tue, 26 Jul 2005 00:00:00 EDT

The U.S. response to the July 7 terrorist bombings of the London tube system has been predictable: more hasty security measures. On July 21, police began conducting random searches of bags and packages carried by people on the New York city subway; those who refuse to be searched are not allowed to ride.

According to Mayor Michael Bloomberg, "These kinds of security measures are necessary." But any security measure must pass two litmus tests. First, it must be proven to be effective. Second, it must not violate constitutional rights. Mayor Bloomberg's "necessary" security falls down on both counts.

The odds of catching a would-be subway bomber are not very good. New York's subways carry about 4.5 million passengers on the average weekday, according to the Metropolitan Transportation Authority. If on any given day there were a single terrorist riding the subway, and half the passengers were carrying some sort of bag, the probability of finding him or her during any particular search using a truly random search pattern would be about one in 2.25 million or about four ten-millionths of one percent. Such odds are only slightly better than winning New York's Mega Millions lottery (about one in 175 million). Even multiplied by thousands of intrusive searches that's a poor bet—and that assumes terrorists are too dim to adapt by, say, strapping bombs to their bodies.

Random searches on the subway are as useless as random searches of airline passengers at the gate—a practice that fortunately has been eliminated by the Transportation Security Agency after TSA administrator James M. Loy decided it was a "stupid rule." The spectacle of security personnel patting down grandmothers and toddlers deserved the ample ridicule it generated. Furthermore, the procedure netted exactly zero terrorists. It is also rather telling that British authorities are not instituting random searches on the London tube system—a testament to the fact that doing so would be ineffective and cripple a transportation system that moves seven million people daily.

Aside from the futility of random searches, Bloomberg's panacea ought to be rejected because the Fourth Amendment of the U.S. Constitution guarantees the right of the people to be "secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects against unreasonable searches and seizures." Without probable cause—such as someone fitting the physical description of a suspected terrorist—a random search of subway passengers is the antithesis of the Fourth Amendment.

That amendment is already in the intensive care unit thanks to the numerous exceptions made in the name of the war on drugs, as well as some of the provisions of the USA PATRIOT Act. If Mayor Bloomberg's measures are adopted nationwide, the prohibition against unreasonable searches will be in danger of expiring entirely.

According to New York Police Commissioner Raymond Kelly, passengers are free to "turn around and leave" to avoid being searched and having their rights violated. But this is hardly providing the protection of the Fourth Amendment. To begin, it is an impractical solution. Presumably, people are using the subway to go somewhere—most likely to work. It is highly unlikely that many employers will take kindly to an excuse of not wanting to have Fourth Amendment rights violated as a reason for being late or not showing up to work. Also, a decision to turn around and leave is likely to be viewed as suspicious behavior by law enforcement and might be used as "probable cause" for detention and an even more extensive search.

Officials in Washington, DC and San Francisco are waiting to see what happens in New York before deciding to implement random searches on Metro and BART, respectively. But deliberation won't change the fact that random searches are both ineffective and a gross violation of constitutional rights. The decision should be a no-brainer.

The outrage in America after the London tube bombings is certainly understandable—as is the desire for Americans to feel safe. At most, that's all random searches on the subway will do: make people feel safer. But such measures won't actually make them safer. It is all too easy to adopt the attitude of one New York subway passenger: "It's just part and parcel of the world we live in."

But nothing could be further from the truth. The world we live in is represented by the Constitution and the principles upon which American society rests. As such, we should heed Benjamin Franklin's admonition that those who would "give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety." Random searches on the subway ultimately mean we have neither.

Fixing Foreign Policy

carpent@cato.org (Ted Galen Carpenter) — Tue, 01 Oct 2002 00:00:00 EDT

For more than half a century, the U.S. military was an instrument of Washington?s foreign policy in far-flung regions of the world. The idea of retaliating for an attack on American territory was barely on the radar screen.

Not so now. U.S. forces have fought Al Qaeda terrorists in the mountains of Afghanistan and helped overthrow the Taliban government that made that country a haven for Osama bin Laden and his followers. Those actions were entirely appropriate, and the United States should take the next stage of the war into Pakistan, where most of the remaining Al Qaeda fighters have regrouped.

But we must stay focused on the threat posed by bin Laden?s network. In particular, we should not use terrorism as a pretext to settle old scores against Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein.

Unfortunately, the Bush administration has made contradictory statements about the scope of the military?s mission. At times, officials seem to focus on those responsible for the September 11 attacks. On other occasions, they suggest that America?s goal is a war against terrorism per se -- even terrorists who aren?t targeting the United States. In his State of the Union address, President Bush went even further, singling out Iraq, Iran, and North Korea as an "axis of evil" and implying that those countries? efforts to acquire weapons of mass destruction were part of a global terrorist threat.

America badly needs to clarify its objectives. A war against Al Qaeda and any other organization or government that targets the United States is different from a general crusade against all organizations that use terrorist tactics against some adversary. The latter would be an extraordinarily broad and difficult mission. Yet even that mission would be narrower than a crusade against all terrorist organizations, plus all evil regimes that might possess weapons of mass destruction. A prime requirement of any good security strategy is that its objectives be realistic and attainable. Neither the second mission nor the third meets that test.

Equally troubling is Washington?s failure to adjust its overall security strategy to meet the new threat posed by groups such as Al Qaeda. There has been no willingness to rethink old commitments and obligations. Instead, all the existing missions have been preserved and the new one simply added to the list.

That is a terribly myopic approach. At the end of the Cold War, the United States should have conducted a detailed audit of its security commitments around the globe, determined which were no longer relevant, and developed a strategy appropriate for the new era. The refusal to undertake such a reassessment was a major failing of U.S. foreign policy in the 1990s.

With the events of September 11, such a reassessment is no longer merely desirable. It is imperative. It is clear that even a narrowly defined anti-terrorist campaign will be a major American concern for several years. Obsolete or nonessential commitments are a distraction that the nation can ill afford, financially or otherwise.

A new, more relevant approach should do three things:

Encourage multiple centers of power. Many officials appear afraid of a global environment with several economic and military great powers and an assortment of mid-sized regional powers. But rather than resisting a return to a more historically normal condition of multipolarity -- a process that is occurring gradually in any case, regardless of American preferences -- Washington should accept that change and turn it to America?s advantage. The presence of other significant political and military players in the international system can provide us with important security buffers, especially if those players are stable and democratic.

Ideally, such states would forge effective regional security organizations -- a more robust European Union, for example. In most cases, though, regional multipolarity would involve more-informal balance-of-power arrangements.

Even that outcome would usually serve American interests. Indeed, the mere existence of multiple powers -- even if some of them are not especially friendly to the United States -- makes it less likely that a hegemonic threat comparable to the Soviet Union could arise again. Regional powers would be the principal firebreaks against disorder and aggression in their respective spheres of influence, a development that would provide significant indirect security benefits to the United States.

Reject the "light switch" model of engagement. American involvement in world affairs can take a variety of forms. Yet whenever critics suggest pruning Washington?s overgrown global security commitments, defenders of the status quo reflexively cry "isolationism." That reaction reflects what might be called the light switch theory of American engagement, in which there are only two possible positions, on or off. Either the United States continues pursuing an indiscriminate global interventionist policy that puts our soldiers at risk in Somalia, Haiti, the Balkans, and the like, or we turn into "Fortress America" and "wall ourselves off from the world."

The contention is either disingenuous or obtuse. No serious analyst advocates creating a hermit republic. It is possible to adopt a security policy between the extremes of global interventionism -- essentially the current policy -- and Fortress America. Moreover, there are different forms of engagement in world affairs, of which the political-military version is merely one. Economic ties are increasingly important, as are diplomatic and cultural connections.

There is no reason why the United States must have identical positions along each axis of engagement. It is entirely feasible to have extensive economic and cultural relations with the rest of the world and to have an active and creative diplomacy without playing the role of the world?s policeman, much less the world?s armed social worker. It is only in the areas of security commitments and military intervention that the United States needs serious reductions in its level of engagement.

Set priorities. Even a country as large and powerful as the United States cannot dictate outcomes everywhere and on every issue. Our attention and energy should be focused on significant adverse changes in the international system -- in other words, on developments with the potential to threaten America?s own security and well-being. We cannot afford to get bogged down in an assortment of petty conflicts, all in the name of preserving Washington?s global leadership. There is a difference between parochial squabbles and serious security threats. Policy makers should learn it.

In most cases, subregional and internecine disorders will not impinge on vital U.S. interests. Washington can therefore afford to view them with detachment, intervening only as a balancer of last resort when the conflict cannot be contained by other powers in the region -- and is expanding to the point where American security is threatened.

From the standpoint of American interests, what usually matters is the conduct of the dozen or so major powers -- nations with significant military or economic capabilities. As long as those states remain at peace with one another and no menacing would-be hegemon emerges, the only remaining threat to America?s security is the risk of terrorist attack. Events involving minor countries may create annoyances, but they do not disrupt the overall stability of the international system. Put bluntly: China?s behavior should matter to the United States, but whether Kosovo becomes independent, Somalia holds together, or injustices occur in Burma should not.

A more cautious global political and military role would allow the United States to decommission superfluous military units and cut the defense budget even as it fights its terrorist adversaries. Moreover, by refusing to be on the front lines of parochial conflicts, America would reduce its risk exposure -- including the risk of terrorist reprisals.

Making these changes would have been wise even before the events of September 11. The terrorist attacks have made them more urgent. It borders on the absurd for military leaders to complain about a lack of personnel to wage the war against Al Qaeda while 100,000 American troops sit uselessly in Western Europe, another 100,000 are deployed in Japan and South Korea, and thousands more are tied down in babysitting missions in Bosnia and Kosovo. To wage war against its terrorist adversaries, America must clear the decks of outdated or misguided military commitments.

Woodrow Wilson, R.I.P.

carpent@cato.org (Ted Galen Carpenter) — Thu, 01 Nov 2001 00:00:00 EST

Here's to the Bush Twins

carpent@cato.org (Ted Galen Carpenter) — Tue, 12 Jun 2001 00:00:00 EDT

The news media have been all agog at the presidential daughters being busted for underage drinking. Amid all the tongue clucking about "poor judgment" and "setting a bad example for the nation's youth," almost no one has bothered to ask whether the law that Jenna and Barbara Bush violated makes any sense. The reality is that setting the minimum age for drinking alcoholic beverages at 21 is one of the most ill-conceived pieces of legislation Congress ever foisted on mostly reluctant states. That is not a charge that should be made lightly, since there have been a lot of foolish congressional mandates over the years.

The drive to set a national minimum drinking age at 21 came during the first Reagan administration, pushed by such groups as Mothers Against Drunk Driving (MADD). Proponents touted it as a crucial measure to stem the epidemic of drunk driving in the United States. Critics pointed out that most people arrested for driving while intoxicated were over the age of 21 and argued further that the rights of the overwhelming majority of responsible 18-to 21-year-olds should not be trampled to strike at the minority of irresponsible drinkers.

Their arguments were drowned out by the hysteria of the day. The outcome of a political contest between MADD members and other prohibitionist forces (most of whom voted) and young adults (most of whom didn't bother to vote) was predictable. And it was a bipartisan rush to impose Prohibition on the younger set. Liberal Democrats such as Rep. Michael Barnes (D-Md) were invaluable allies of the conservative Reagan administration.

Ever since the repeal of the 18th Amendment in 1933, the federal government is without constitutional authority to directly ban the sale of alcohol to any American. Control over alcohol policy is explicitly left to the states. But that constitutional impediment didn't slow those who wanted to require all 18- to 21-year-olds to be teetotalers. The device used to impose a national minimum drinking age was the threat to withhold federal highway funds from any state that didn't comply with Congress's wishes. One might have thought that conservative Republicans, who are constantly affirming their reverence for states rights and the 10th Amendment, would have been a little chary about dictating to the states in that fashion. Most, however, were not deterred by a little inconsistency.

At first, some states did balk at the congressional diktat, and there were even some court challenges. Ultimately, though, the lure of highway dollars from Washington was too strong. By the end of the decade, all 50 states had complied.

Not only is the law widely flouted by young adults, it places the United States wildly out of step with other industrialized countries. Indeed, according to a study by the International Center for Alcohol Policies, of 53 countries where information was available, only four-- Malaysia, South Korea, Ukraine and the United States--set the minimum drinking age at 21. Only two others--Japan and Iceland--put the age at 20. In contrast, 26 countries have a minimum drinking age of 18, and 5 set the standard at age 16. Several countries, including Portugal, have no legal minimum age requirement at all. Most of America's democratic friends have decidedly more liberal standards. Italy, Spain, and France set the minimum age at 16. Israel, Sweden, Great Britain and Australia allow anyone over 18 to drink. (Britain even allows 16-year-olds to consume beer or cider when purchased for consumption with meals.) Germany allows 16-year-olds to drink wine or beer but sets the age at 18 for hard liquor.

All of these societies seem to do quite well with the lower drinking ages. They certainly are not afflicted by massive epidemics of alcoholism or drunk driving as prohibitionists in the United States might expect. Indeed, countries with liberal standards compare quite favorably with America on both counts.

One ought to hesitate to advocate or even defend the breaking of a law. And there seems to be little question that the Bush daughters violated the law against underage drinking. But some laws are so irrational or so outrageously intrusive that they virtually invite violation. The law mandating a minimum age of 21 to consume alcohol is guilty on both counts.

Telling adults of any age that they may not drink is inherently intrusive. It is also illogical. Adults between the ages of 18 and 21 may legally do all manner of things. They may sign binding contracts, obtain credit cards, marry, own property, and vote, to name just a few of the more important rights.

The divergence of the law on drinking from those governing these other matters sets up situations that are manifestly absurd. For example, a young married couple may drive to their leased apartment in the new car they recently purchased with a loan. They may stop at the store to purchase flowers with their Mastercard or Visa for the celebration of their wedding anniversary. On their way home they may stop to cast their votes in an election. They may do all of these things legally. But if they attempt to purchase a glass of wine in their favorite restaurant to celebrate their anniversary, they become criminals.

It is hardly surprising that young American adults violate such an obnoxious, intrusive law in droves. Jenna and Barbara Bush were merely doing what millions of their peers do every day. Rather than condemning them, Americans of all ages should demand that the law be changed.

Resistance Tactics

carpent@cato.org (Ted Galen Carpenter) — Sun, 01 Jan 1995 00:00:00 EST

Strategic Nonviolent Conflict: The Dynamics of People Power in the Twentieth Century, by Peter Ackerman and Christopher Kruegler, Westport, CT: Praeger, 380 pages, $55/$22.95 paper

A persistent problem facing the victims of an invading army or an indigenous dictatorship is how to defend or restore their freedom, and especially how to do so without precipitating a bloodbath. The standard initial response to invading forces is conventional military defense, but that approach is not particularly practical when the aggressor is much larger and more powerful. The most common forms of resistance to entrenched repressive regimes, whether homegrown or installed by a conqueror, are guerrilla warfare and terrorism. But the success rates of those strategies are spotty at best and likely to increase the level of human carnage.

In Strategic Nonviolent Conflict: The Dynamics of People Power in the Twentieth Century, Peter Ackerman, a visiting scholar at the International Institute for Strategic Studies in London, and Christopher Kruegler, president of the Albert Einstein Institution in Cambridge, Massachusetts, present compelling arguments that a well-conceived campaign of nonviolent resistance may be a more feasible option. Their book, which builds on the pioneering studies of scholars such
as Gene Sharp and Thomas Schelling, provides crucial insights into the reasons why some attempts at nonviolent resistance succeed and why others fail. Although the authors do not attempt to offer a comprehensive strategic blueprint--the varied circumstances of confrontational situations would make such a rigid formulation impractical--they do develop several important principles of nonviolent strategy.

The topic is of more than academic interest in the post-Cold War era. Ackerman and Kruegler's observations are pertinent to any number of contemporary geopolitical situations. Consider the tense relations between Russia and the small countries on its perimeter. The Baltic states fear the upsurge of Russian chauvinism symbolized by Vladimir Zhirinovsky and worry that it might be the prelude to a new wave of Russian expansionism. But there's no way that Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania, given their limited populations and resources, could ever hope to repel an invading army from a neo-imperial Russia. Or consider Cuba. The Cuban economy is so weak that it must ration butter, but the army is hardly lacking guns. Dissidents hoping to accelerate the demise of the Castro regime have few options other than nonviolent resistance.

As befits the relevance of its topic, Ackerman and Kruegler's book is not a dry theoretical treatise disconnected from the real world. The authors examine six historical episodes of nonviolent resistance undertaken by populations that lacked access to effective military power.

Those episodes are quite diverse: the Russian rebellion of 1905; the German public's resistance to the French occupation of the Ruhr in 1923; India's agitation against British colonialism in 1930-31; Danish resistance to the Nazi occupation in World War II; the civic strike against the dictatorship of Gen. Maximiliano Hernández Martinez in El Salvador in 1944; and Solidarity's campaign against Poland's communist government in 1980-81.

The authors' historical survey undermines a number of persistent myths about nonviolent resistance. One is the notion that such movements are spontaneous mass uprisings by populations that have been pushed beyond endurance--the implication being that it is futile to outline organizational or strategic principles for waging a resistance campaign because such uprising cannot be anticipated, much less channeled. The case studies examined show, however, that while there were spontaneous aspects to the resistance movements, there were also important elements of planning and coordination that varied in effectiveness and sophistication.

Another myth is that nonviolent resistance is both "passive" and pacifist (indeed, the technique is all too often misnamed "passive resistance"). Ackerman and Kruegler demonstrate clearly that such movements, while seeking to avoid bloodshed, can be quite assertive, if not aggressive. For example, the Ruhrkampf directed against the French included the open harassment of French military personnel. More recently, the Philippine "People Power" revolution in 1986 involved tense confrontations between demonstrators and the military. Leaders of the insurgent forces deliberately courted such confrontations to force the military to choose sides--either to fire on innocent civilians or abandon its support of the Marcos dictatorship.

In fact, Ackerman and Kruegler point out that there is no conceptual chasm separating violent and nonviolent tactics; there is instead a spectrum of measures. Even basically "nonviolent" movements sometimes resorted to sabotage of industrial machinery, communications paraphernalia, and transportation equipment as part of their resistance campaign. That was a prominent feature of the 1905 Russian rebellion, the German resistance to the French occupation of the Ruhr, and the Danish underground's harassment of the Nazis.

Indeed, leaders of nonviolent campaigns frequently find it difficult to restrain supporters who wish to escalate the level of violence. The disappointing outcomes of the Russian and German case studies suggest that a failure to maintain adequate nonviolent discipline can reduce the probability of achieving a movement's ultimate objectives because it alienates potential domestic and external supporters.

The most tenacious myth Ackerman and Kruegler debunk is that nonviolent resistance is effective only in dealing with democratic governments that have adopted uncharacteristically repressive policies. According to that argument, peaceful demonstrations and civil disobedience can prick the conscience of democratic rulers and publics, gain the support of international opinion, and force a change of policy while totalitarian and authoritarians regimes will simply use whatever force is necessary to smash the opposition.

The episodes examined in Strategic Nonviolent Conflict suggest that the reality is far more complex. If the conventional wisdom were correct, the successful movements would have been the German resistance to the occupation forces of democratic France and the Indian anti-colonialism movement against democratic Britain. And, following the logic through, the Danish resistance to Nazi Germany's occupation, the Salvadoran rebellion, and Poland's Solidarity would have had faint prospects.

The actual results don't fit that pattern. For example, the resistance to the Ruhr occupation ultimately fizzled, despite substantial covert support from the German government. (Only the U.S.-sponsored Dawes plan eventually caused Paris to withdraw its forces.) The Indian effort, led by Mohandas K. Gandhi, failed as well, at least in the short run. (Although Britain ultimately granted India independence, it did so only because of the financial exhaustion caused by World War II.) Conversely, the Danish resistance movement was surprisingly effective; the El Salvador strike ousted an odious dictator; and the Solidarity campaign, while only partially successful in the short term, created the conditions for a definitive victory just a few years later.

Ackerman and Kruegler demonstrate that the political orientation of the target regime is not the most important factor in whether or not a particular movement succeeds. Instead, the authors argue that what makes or breaks a resistance movement is how well it implements certain principles of nonviolent conflict. The major principles identified by Ackerman and Kruegler include a number of common-sense observations. Under "principles of development," for example, the authors stress the importance of formulating functional objectives, developing organizational strength, and attempting to secure external assistance. Under "principles of engagement," they emphasize such things as muting the impact of the opponents' preponderance of force and maintaining nonviolent discipline (i.e., eschewing terrorism).

Other insights are less obvious, however, and many of them relate to the importance of maintaining tactical flexibility. One vital principle of development, for instance, is to expand the repertoire of nonviolent sanctions. The struggle against repressive authorities is inherently dynamic, not static. Consequently, the regime in power will attempt to parry the tactics employed by the insurgents and then counterattack. Staying with one tactic (e.g., mass demonstrations) too long can enable initially beleaguered authorities to regroup and strike back at a time and place of their choice. That is perhaps the saddest lesson of the failure of the student-led Chinese campaign for democracy, which perished in Tiananmen Square.

The need to alienate the regime from expected bases of support is an especially crucial principle of engagement. Hence, for example, Solidarity's inability to undermine the military's loyalty to the communist regime allowed the Polish government to declare martial law and rely on military units to arrest the union's leadership. Adjusting offensive and defensive operations according to the relative vulnerabilities of the protagonists represents an essential "principle of conception." Leaders of the El Salvador civic strike executed that tactic to perfection. As the authors note, "Each time the movement chose to escalate the conflict, they did so in relation to the opponent's newly exposed weaknesses."

All of those measures have the common denominator of sustaining a flexible, dynamic, and offense-oriented resistance campaign. Indeed, a common characteristic of the unsuccessful nonviolent movements highlighted in the historical case studies is the tendency to persist with one set of tactics rather than adjust to changing conditions to exploit the oppressor's weaknesses or to compensate for emerging vulnerabilities in the resistance movement. The principles outlined by Ackerman and Kruegler should help the leaders of future resistance campaigns to focus better on strategic and tactical fundamentals. Among other benefits, nonviolent movements may exhibit less of a disorganized and "spontaneous" quality.

While Strategic Nonviolent Conflict provides an important intellectual resource for those interested in the mechanics of unarmed defiance, some important questions, of course, remain. Although the authors effectively undermine the myth that nonviolent resistance can be effective only against misbehaving democratic governments, they are less successful at determining how such a strategy
might be sustained against a regime or invading force that is determined to prevail at all costs and is able to retain the loyalty of enough armed personnel to execute its policies.

In that regard, the Danish example is not entirely compelling. The Nazis were preoccupied elsewhere and regarded the occupation of Denmark as a relatively low-priority matter. One suspects that a campaign of nonviolent resistance undertaken by the Poles, Ukrainians, or other populations that stood in the way of Berlin's quest for Lebensraum in Eastern Europe would not have fared as well. Similarly, such a strategy does not appear to be feasible in the maelstrom of the former Yugoslavia, where the feuding factions seem willing to slaughter each other without a pang of guilt. It is a thorny problem that advocates of nonviolent resistance must examine more thoroughly.

Additional analysis is also needed in connection with the authors' sobering observation that while resisters can raise the costs to an oppressive government or occupation force, the authorities can also raise the costs to the resisters in a variety of ways. Several of the principles outlined by Ackerman and Kruegler may need to be refined--and perhaps others developed--to help shift the odds more decisively against the forces of oppression.

Such issues await the next spate of books and articles on the subject. Strategic Nonviolent Conflict makes an invaluable contribution to the study of nonviolent resistance and offers several useful guidelines to those who are dedicated to defending or recovering their freedom in the post-Cold War world. Ackerman and Kruegler have taken our understanding of nonviolent conflict to a new and impressive level.