In the Arena

by Pete Hegseth

  This doesn’t mean fighting every fight, only that no other country is capable of freedom’s fight. We can whine about that reality and scold other Western countries for gutting their militaries to pay for their welfare states, but unless and until another free country emerges—with a real army, instead of armies of bureaucrats—then when we have to fight, America will shoulder the leadership burden alone. Vulnerable nations and oppressed peoples still look to America to deter aggression and affirm their aspirations for freedom—I personally saw it in the eyes of Iraqis and Afghans. America cannot accomplish everything alone, nor should we; but almost nothing of good consequence can be done in the modern world without American leadership. The world is more interconnected than ever—from commerce to information to markets—and what happens in the far corners of the world impacts America, our allies, and our interests. The question is not “Should America lead?” but instead “In what manner should America lead?”

  Many Americans, especially millennials who grew up on a healthy diet of Iraq War pessimism, may not love this “America alone” reality—but they cannot ignore it. As I saw in Afghanistan, we have some great English-speaking allies willing to pull triggers with us. The Australians, the British, and the Canadians immediately come to mind, and all have been longtime, faithful allies of America. But their internal politics, battlefield caveats, and tiny defense budgets prevent them from leading necessary fights. They are strong and faithful wingmen to America, but they are not capable of leading on a global or even regional scale. Only American power, reinvigorated with good citizens and economic vitality, has the realistic ability to defend a free world besieged by threats from within and without. The sooner we realize this lonely fact, the sooner we can build a realistic picture of what leading in the twenty-first century really looks like for America.

  Understanding history—and then truly learning lessons from it—is the best way to establish a clear picture of what a modern American foreign policy ought to look like. So, in abbreviated fashion, what are the specific lessons of Iraq, Afghanistan, and Libya?

  In Iraq, I learned: Our Islamic enemy is real and radical—but can be defeated. Local conditions are paramount and, if understood, present important opportunities. There is a military solution, because only military progress is a prelude to political and economic progress. Strength, numbers, and resolve work (surge), while retreat (especially arbitrary deadlines) invites chaos. U.S. troops are part of the solution, not the source of the problem. Average Iraqis want to believe the United States is there for the right reason; our job is to confirm that bias. “Iraqracy,” not liberal Western democracy, is possible in the heart of the Middle East. Unilateral action is not a dirty word, and is often preferable in execution. Counterinsurgency can work, if fully executed and accompanied by overwhelming violence of action. A clear mission—understood at the lowest level—is paramount to an effective outcome. Restrictive rules of engagement (RoE) are deadly for our troops, while aggressive RoE are incredibly effective in decimating and demoralizing our enemy. Signs of our progress on the modern, asymmetric battlefield are often subtle (like shifting allegiances) and invisible to the naked eye—making “on the ground” truth indispensable. Maintaining support for the war on the home front is critical to maintaining momentum on the battlefield.

  In Afghanistan, I learned: Our Islamic enemy is real and radical—and very adept at survival. Local conditions are paramount and, if not understood, present insurmountable challenges. There is not always a military solution, and investing billions in economic development without security and governmental legitimacy only makes matters worse. Strength and numbers matter, but a lack of resolve—especially when reinforced through a lack of public proclamation—infects and undermines every aspect of warfare. Arbitrary withdrawal deadlines don’t work. U.S. troops are not the source of the problem, but cannot always solve the problem. Average Afghans—especially in rural areas (in other words, most of the country)—have no concept of why the United States is in Afghanistan and just want to be left alone. No form of centralized Western governance will work, only local power-sharing agreements and tribal councils. International military coalitions, while nice on paper, are more cumbersome than useful. Counterinsurgency, especially done halfway, does not work everywhere. The lack of a clear mission leads to mission creep. Restrictive RoE are deadly for our troops and ruthlessly exploited by an adaptive enemy. Signs of enemy progress on the modern, asymmetric battlefield are often subtle (for example, Taliban shadow government networks) and invisible to the naked eye—making “on the ground” truth indispensable.

  In Libya, we learned: Our Islamic enemies are real, radical, and resourceful—exploiting advantageous power vacuums to expand their influence. Without direct U.S. military support, so-called moderate Muslim elements are rapidly defeated and co-opted by violent and vicious Islamists (see Syria as well). Local conditions are paramount and cannot be understood, let alone influenced, from a distance. Sometimes the easiest military solution—in this case an air-only effort—is not the best solution. Once you rip the lid off the country, it’s impossible to put the cover back on. Absent a better solution, an allied despot who disavows support for Islamists is better than hoping U.S.-induced instability will sort itself out. Strength and numbers matter, but only if you use them. The U.S. military is not the problem, but can make the problem worse. International military coalitions, while worthwhile to solidify “global consensus” for action, do not preordain a positive outcome; if anything, they allow for the shirking and shifting of responsibility. “Leading from behind” equates to U.S. followership and allowing the outcome to define itself. The Libya intervention is a model of what not to do in the twenty-first century—all of the action, with none of the follow-through plan. The mission in Libya was clear, but it was incomplete; the war may have ended for us, but it has not ended for the people of Libya and the Islamists preying on and exploiting them.

  Three different conflicts, with three very different sets of lessons. No conflict is the same, no engagement is the same, and the threats facing America are very different. Yet the default setting of both left-wing “coexist” types and right-wing “restraint” types is to lump them together, blurring the lessons into a broad case for military inaction, blaming America first, and retreating from the world. Those are, of course, the wrong lessons. Instead, with humility and realism about the limits of American foresight and capabilities, we need to build a muscular framework for defending the free world in the dangerous twenty-first century. Firmly grounded in the rightness of American values, establishing core principles (as opposed to hard-and-fast rules) for U.S. foreign policy leadership helps answer the question, “In what manner should America lead?” From there we apply those principles to the immediate threats in today’s world and, in the spirit of Teddy Roosevelt, the principled approach is revealed regardless of political party or popular passions. Successful operations apply these eight principles; operations that fail usually violate one—or many—of them:

  1. Name, know, and gauge the enemy. My initial education on the differences between Islamist groups came over many nights in the guard tower at Guantanamo Bay, speaking with a member of my platoon who grew up a Coptic Christian in Egypt and spoke fluent Arabic. He would translate the conversations and explain the dynamics between the more fair-skinned Afghan detainees and the darker-skinned Arabs, who, as descendants of the prophet Muhammad, considered themselves spiritually and historically superior. The Islamist enemies we face in Iraq, Afghanistan, and Libya are different versions of the same enemy: violent and political Islamists committed to establishing—and expanding—a caliphate and forcing non-Muslims to submit. The Taliban and the Muslim Brotherhood, which compared to the Islamic State look tame, are committed to the same end game. The worst thing we can do is assume—as many in the foreign policy intelligentsia did—that an extremely radical and violent group like the Islamic State will “collapse under the weight of its own evil.” Such a statement—just like
claiming that Muslims will stop joining the Islamic State if they have jobs or that climate change causes Islamic terrorism—reflects a dangerous lack of understanding about these groups, as well as the grievances (legitimate or otherwise) they are exploiting. Just as Russian and Chinese communism took different forms, Islamism is not a monolith. Iran has similar ambitions, but it is obviously important to recognize that their Shia version of Islam has been, and remains, at war with Sunni Islam. Properly gauging the threat allows us to apply the appropriate level of response, at the appropriate time. Whereas the Islamic State must be violently, indiscriminately, and immediately eradicated from this earth—with the support of U.S. advisers, aviators, and trigger pullers—combating an Iranian proxy like Hezbollah (especially under an Iranian nuclear umbrella) requires a different approach.

  2. Understand, and account for, local conditions, cultures, and power dynamics. Ultimately, uncontrollable local and cultural factors can serve as the most significant constraint on the factors we do control. Personally witnessing the huge difference between what is possible in Iraq versus what is possible in Afghanistan instilled in me a healthy and abiding dose of realism that I believe should permeate America’s foreign policy. Add to that reality the cultural chasms between the United States and places like China, Russia, and Iran, and we would be foolish to believe a one-size-fits-all approach will ever work. Before we intervene on a large or small scale, America’s political and military leadership must both understand and take into account local complexities and power dynamics. They must also think through how changing those dynamics will impact our security and the long-term mission we aim to accomplish—including the size, scope, and possible unintended consequences. Properly implementing this principle requires substantially increasing and empowering America’s intelligence services.

  3. Outline a clear, honest, and feasible long-term mission. No modern American war has been started without an articulation of what was declared, at the time, to be a clear and limited mission. In Afghanistan we were going to crush Al Qaeda and topple the Taliban—but it quickly expanded into full-blown nation building. In Iraq the original mission was to remove Saddam from power and preempt Iraqi deployment of weapons of mass destruction—but we quickly shifted to a more ambitious endeavor of democracy promotion. In Libya the mission was narrowly focused on protecting Libyan civilians from massacre, not on deposing a dictator—but eventually American planes helped hunt down and kill Qaddafi. In each case, either infeasible mission creep or an unstated secondary mission obscured the clarity of the cause. Only in the case of Iraq—and it took until 2007—was a clear, honest, and feasible mission ever outlined that was grounded in hard-earned experience and local realities. We need to realize that, in conflicts of consequence, easy and short-term outcomes are rarely possible—and the attempt to do wars on the cheap (Iraq pre-surge) or only from the air (deposing Qaddafi in Libya) can have massive unintended consequences. None of our adversaries are going anywhere soon, making long-term military, diplomatic, and economic planning and execution critically important. It also means deterring conflict is highly preferable to engaging in conflict.

  4. The American military is a force for good. As outlined throughout this book, I believe America has always been an exceptional nation that is a force for good in the world. Acting under this premise doesn’t mean being arrogant or belligerent; it only means having confidence in the value of our commitment to political freedom, economic freedom, and religious freedom. Of course, just like any other nation, we are a flawed nation, full of fallen people. America has made many mistakes, we have unnecessarily killed innocent people, and we have fallen short of our values. But, on the whole, America has been a force for good in the world—freeing people from tyranny, lifting people from poverty, saving people from disasters, and keeping the world’s shipping lanes open for free trade and global commerce.

  My experience also shows, quite clearly, that in contested areas military progress is the essential precursor to political and economic progress. The use of American force is, on balance, a good thing. These facts, which are abstract for many, were validated during both of my tours to combat zones. Our actions are not perfect, but those who dwell on our imperfections either miss the forest for the trees or simply have an ideological ax to grind. Or they live in a fantasy world where democracy, free markets, and allies emerge in a vacuum—even when history shows us that force of arms is the necessary precursor. Enemies don’t defeat themselves, and shipping lanes don’t protect themselves. When Democrats and Republicans embrace this principle, the old adage “partisan politics stops at the water’s edge” really is possible. Teddy Roosevelt did it and our generation did it—it’s not hard. America’s failures abroad are failures for all of us.

  5. America is the world’s sheriff. In order to secure America and her interests, we must be robustly engaged in the world. America must be unafraid to act unilaterally when necessary because, as discussed later in chapter 8, today’s international institutions are impotent, obstructionist, and outright hostile to American interests. This reality does not mean we act rashly or belligerently, but instead requires that America act muscularly and proactively—as a means to deter our enemies, reassure our allies, and maintain global trade markets. In the past this role was called, including by Teddy Roosevelt, the “proper policing of the world.” My experience shows how difficult this really is. The world is so disparate, chaotic, and complex that American boots cannot be everywhere, nor should they be. Instead, like a good sheriff’s department, American boots, ships, and airpower should be in the neighborhood, either embedded or just over the horizon, and proactively prepared to shape outcomes, deter violence, and support our friends. When we intervene, sometimes we can leave quickly; but other times, mission success will dictate that we must stay.

  This means staying in regions where we are engaged, and finding new locations from which to project American power. The real and constant threat of immediate American intervention—the willingness to “pay any price, bear any burden”—actually lessens the likelihood of conflict, as bad actors think twice about causing trouble. This approach does not mean searching for fights or starting wars; on the contrary, peace is possible only by reintroducing the real threat of American intervention and thereby restoring respect for, and fear of, America around the world. Otherwise we end up containing, managing, and refereeing bloody and consequential conflicts from the sidelines, hoping they end in our favor rather than influencing the outcome (a situation very similar to what America’s inner-city police departments face right now). By strongly and proactively addressing international flash points—a concept Ronald Reagan dubbed “peace through strength” and Wall Street Journal columnist and author Bret Stephens calls “broken windows foreign policy”—America can deter weaker foes and prevent large-scale conflict. We should enlist local friends and international allies as sheriff’s deputies whenever possible; but without America confidently in the lead—with a shiny golden badge seen by all—the twenty-first century will be neither free, prosperous, nor peaceful.

  6. American strength and resolve are fundamental. Being in the neighborhood does little good if America is unwilling to act decisively or, more important, overwhelmingly to defeat a threat. Present or not, indecisiveness and equivocation undercut our allies and embolden adversaries. Worse, America cannot afford to quit fights when they become difficult. Osama bin Laden called America a “paper tiger” for a reason: he believed America did not have the resolve to finish a fight with Islamism. While he was correct about American public opinion, he was proved wrong by the Iraq surge—only to be validated by Barack Obama’s unilateral withdrawal. American resolve, should we muster it, is the ingredient our enemies most fear. Ronald Reagan’s “peace through strength” adage is correct, as is the inverse—weakness is dangerous and invites challenge. Strength also requires untying the hands of our warfighters by altering battlefield rules of engagement (RoE) that are currently slanted against them. Our enemies h
ide among civilians, limiting our options and endangering our troops—and that must change. Our troops should always get the benefit of the doubt, and should be empowered to punish the enemy no matter their cowardly tactics.

  Resolve also requires hard truths. When confronting Iran and the Islamic State, what is our Hiroshima and Nagasaki moment? If we believe the threat to be no less severe than Nazism, what will bring our enemies to their knees? And how will America muster the resolve? The unwillingness to do whatever is necessary to defeat our enemies means wars drag out longer, at unnecessary cost in American lives and treasure. Following the Obama administration, delivering decisive destruction to our enemies will require a renewed focus on fostering citizens and patriots, as well as a defense restoration similar to the Reagan buildup of the 1980s.

  7. The freedom agenda is not dead, but must be more realistic. Many of the most persuasive critics of America’s post-9/11 foreign policy make the case that any form of democracy is incompatible with any form of Islam. As skeptical as I am about Islamic reformation, my experience and interactions in the Middle East—especially in Iraq—showed me that certain Muslim populations, in certain places and at certain times, can actually buck this trend with the help of America. Iraqracy, or quasi-democracy, is eventually possible where societal ingredients exist that can either supersede or suppress hard-core Islamic law. It was eventually forged—after decades—in the Kurdish region of Iraq after the Gulf War, and could have happened throughout Iraq after the surge, with a long-term commitment from the United States. There’s also no reason why it could not have secured a beachhead in Iran—a highly educated country. We could have exploited popular protests in 2009 far better, either helping to topple the regime entirely or at least forcing the issue toward a far better nuclear deal. Instead, we sat back passively and feebly.