Neo-Conned! Again

by D Liam O'Huallachain

  The growth of modern bureaucracy has two implications which are crucial to the feasibility of the coup: the development of a clear distinction between the permanent machinery of State and the political leadership [which changes], and the fact is, like most large organizations, the bureaucracy has a structured hierarchy with definite chains of command ….

  The importance of this development lies in the fact that if the bureaucrats are linked to the political leadership, an illegal seizure of power must take the form of a “Palace Revolution,” and it essentially concerns the manipulation of the person of the ruler. He can be forced to accept policies or advisers, he can be killed or held captive, but whatever happens the Palace Revolution can only be conducted from the “inside” and by “insiders” [in these pages, we have seen nothing but the work of insiders surrounding a weak President].

  The State bureaucracy has to divide its work into clear-cut areas of competence, which are assigned to different departments. Within each department there must be an accepted chain of command, and standard procedures have to be followed. Thus a given piece of information, or a given order, is followed up in a stereotyped manner, and if the order comes from the appropriate source, at the appropriate level, it is carried out …. The apparatus of the State is therefore to some extent a “machine” which will normally behave in a fairly predictable and automatic manner.

  A coup operates by taking advantage of this machine-like behaviour; during the coup, because it uses parts of the State apparatus to seize the controlling levers; afterwards because the value of the “levers” depends on the fact that the State is a machine.

  Who are the best conspirators? Here is how Luttwak describes them:

  All power, all participation, is in the hands of the small educated elite, and therefore radically different from the vast majority of their countrymen, practically a race apart. The masses recognize this and they also accept the elite's monopoly on power, unless some unbearable exaction leads to desperate revolt …. Equally, they will accept a change in government, whether legal or otherwise. After all, it is merely another lot of “them” taking over [this is precisely the case of American society: a great mass of badly educated people, remains passive because of need, accepts the new capitalist flexibility so as to hold on to or find work].

  Thus, after a coup … the majority of the people will neither believe nor disbelieve …. This lack of reaction is all the coup needs on the part of the people to stay in power.

  The lower levels of the bureaucracy will react – or rather fail to react – in a similar manner and for similar reasons: the “bosses” give the orders, can promote or demote and, above all, are the source of that power and prestige …. After the coup, the man who sits at district headquarters will still be obeyed – whether he is the man who was there before or not – so long as he can pay the salaries ….

  For the senior bureaucrats, army and police officers, the coup will be a mixture of dangers and opportunities. For the greater number of those who are not too deeply committed, the coup will offer opportunities rather than dangers. They can accept the coup and, being collectively indispensable, can negotiate for even better salaries and positions.

  As the coup will not usually represent a threat to most of the elite, the choice is between the great dangers of opposition and the safety of inaction. All that is required in order to support the coup is, simply, to do nothing – and that is what will usually be done.

  Thus, at all levels, the most likely course of action following a coup is acceptance …. This lack of reaction is the key to the victory of the coup.

  Chapter 3: The Strategy of a Coup d'État

  If we were revolutionaries, wanting to destroy the power of some of the political forces, the long and often bloody process of revolutionary attrition can achieve this. Our purpose is, however, quite different: we want to seize power within the present system, and we shall only stay in power if we embody some new status quo supported by those very forces which a revolution may seek to destroy …. This is perhaps a more efficient method, and certainly a less painful one, than that of a classic revolution [this is a perfection description of the neoconservative coup d'état].

  Though we will try to avoid all conflict with the “political” forces, some of them will almost certainly oppose a coup. But this opposition will largely subside when we have substituted our new status quo for the old one, and can enforce it by our control of the State bureaucracy and security forces. We shall then be carrying out the dual task of imposing our control on the machinery of State while at the same time using it to impose our control on the country at large.

  As long as the execution of the coup is rapid, and we are cloaked in anonymity, no particular political faction will have either a motive, or opportunity, to oppose us.

  Chapter 4: The Planning of the Coup d'État

  Whether it is a two party system, as in much of the Anglo-Saxon world, where parties are in effect coalitions of pressure groups, or whether they are the class or religion-based parties of much of continental Europe, the major political parties in developed and democratic countries will not present a direct threat to the coup. Though such parties have mass support at election time, neither they nor their followers are versed in the techniques of mass agitation. The comparative stability of political life has deprived them of the experience required to employ direct methods, and the whole climate of their operation revolves around the concept of periodic elections.

  Though some form of confrontation may be inevitable, it is essential to avoid bloodshed, because this may well have crucial negative repercussions amongst the personnel of the armed forces and the police.

  Chapter 5: The Execution of the Coup d'État

  With detailed planning, there will be no need for any sort of headquarters structure in the active stage of the coup: for if there is no scope for decision-making there is no need for decision-makers and their apparatus. In fact, having a headquarters would be a serious disadvantage: it would constitute a concrete target for the opposition and one which would be both vulnerable and easily identified …. We should avoid taking any action that will clarify the nature of the threat and thus reduce the confusion that is left in the defensive apparatus of the regime …. The leaders of the coup will be scattered among the various teams. [As we can see Luttwak is theoretically discussing an invisible coup d'état: the infiltrated coup participants speak with the voice of the legitimate government, of that which they have seized. On September 11, let's remember, the immediate entourage of President Bush were not thinking of an Arab attack, but of a military coup d'état. It is for this reason that the President was taken to a secure location for 10 hours].

  In the period immediately after the coup, they [the high level Civil Servants and Military Commanders] will probably see themselves as isolated individuals whose careers, and even lives, could be in danger. This feeling of insecurity may precipitate two alternative reactions, both extreme: they will either step forward to assert their loyalty to the leaders of the coup or else they will try to foment or join in the opposition against us. Both reactions are undesirable from our point of view. Assertions of loyalty will usually be worthless since they are made by men who have just abandoned their previous, and possibly more legitimate, masters. Opposition will always be dangerous and sometimes disastrous. Our policy towards the military and bureaucratic cadres will be to reduce this sense of insecurity. We should establish direct communications with as many of the more senior officers and officials as possible to convey one principal idea in a forceful and convincing manner: that the coup will not threaten their positions in the hierarchy and the aims of the coup do not include a reshaping of the existing military or administrative structures [this appears to be exactly the task of JINSA].

  The masses have neither the weapons of the military nor the administrative facilities of the bureaucracy, but their attitude to the new government established after the coup will ultimately be decisive. Our immediate aim will be
to enforce public order, but our long-term objective is to gain the acceptance of the masses so that physical coercion will not longer be needed …. Our far more flexible instrument will be our control over the means of mass communication …. In broadcasting over the radio and television services our purpose is not to provide information about the situation, but rather to affect its development by exploiting our monopoly of these media. [This is exactly what the American mass media has done since September 11.]

  [The action of the media] will be achieved by conveying the reality and strength of the coup instead of trying to justify it [the emotional blow of the collapse of the World Trade Centre was presented with plenty of “reality” and “force” by CNN]. We will have fragmented the opposition so that each individual opponent would have to operate in isolation. In these circumstances, the news of any further resistance against us would act as a powerful stimulant to further resistance by breaking down this feeling of isolation. We must, therefore, make every effort to withhold such news. If there is in fact some resistance … we should strongly emphasize that it is isolated, the product of the obstinacy of a few misguided or dishonest individuals who are not affiliated to any party or group of significant membership. The constant working of the motif of isolation, and the emphasis on the fact that law and order have been reestablished, should have the effect of making resistance appear as dangerous and useless.

  There will arise, Luttwak says, “the inevitable suspicions that the coup is a product of the machinations of the Company [American slang for the CIA]. This can only be dispelled by making violent attacks on it … and the attacks should be all the more violent if these suspicions are in fact justified …. We shall make use of a suitable selection of unlovely phrases [for example, anti-Americanism? Anti-Semitism?]. Even if their meanings have been totally obscured by constant and deliberate misuse, they will be useful indicators of our impeccable nationalism.”

  It seems to this author that these paragraphs describe, with shocking precision, all that has taken place in America since September 11.

  THE EDITORS' GLOSS: We were told recently by a “conservative” colleague that he “wouldn't cross the street to read anything that Noam Chomsky writes.” But then this is, sadly, what passes for political discussion these days. “I don't listen to him,” the saying goes. But never mind that: what about what he says?

  This is the approach we believe readers, whether fans or critics of Prof. Chomsky's work, should take to what follows. Happily, his essay, adapted from a talk given to the Royal Institute of Philosophy in London on May 19, 2004, aims at some lowest-common-denominator principles that even our “I-wouldn't-cross-the-street” colleague should be able to appreciate. Chomsky's target is the hypocrisy of the “West,” the “West” being that Anglo-American democracy machine which draws its life-blood not from Chaucer, Cervantes, Chopin, and Christ, but from corporations, banks, and armies.

  Heaven knows Chomsky has plenty of material to work with, but he doesn't ask for too much in making his point. Only that the “West” hold itself to standards to which it expects others to adhere. Study after study reveals that this is seen as a reasonable request – both within the “West” and without – and one which we must take to heart if we really wish to avoid further provoking those who have had enough of our double-standards. Speaking at the Baker Institute for Public Policy at Rice University, pollster John Zogby said recently that many Arabs continue to “love Americans, but hate American policy.” It's what we do and not who we are or what we believe that makes the difference.

  CHAPTER

  4

  Simple Truths, Hard Problems:

  Some Thoughts on Terror, Justice, and Self-Defense

  ………

  Prof. Noam Chomsky, Ph.D.

  TO DISPEL ANY false expectations, I really am going to keep to very simple truths, so much so that I toyed with suggesting the title “In Praise of Platitudes,” with an advance apology for the elementary character of what follows. The only justification for proceeding along this course is that the truisms are widely rejected, in some crucial cases almost universally so. And the human consequences are serious, in particular, with regard to the hard problems I have in mind. One reason why they are hard is that moral truisms are so commonly disdained by those with sufficient power to do so with impunity, because they set the rules.

  The guiding principle is elementary. Norms are established by the powerful, in their own interests, and with the acclaim of responsible intellectuals. These may be close to historical universals. I have been looking for exceptions for many years. There are a few, but not many.

  Sometimes the principle is explicitly recognized. The norm for post-World War II international justice was established at Nuremberg. To bring the Nazi criminals to justice, it was necessary to devise definitions of “war crime” and “crime against humanity.” Telford Taylor, chief counsel for the prosecution and a distinguished international lawyer and historian, has explained candidly how this was done:

  Since both sides in World War II had played the terrible game of urban destruction – the Allies far more successfully – there was no basis for criminal charges against Germans or Japanese, and in fact no such charges were brought …. Aerial bombardment had been used so extensively and ruthlessly on the Allied side as well as the Axis side that neither at Nuremberg nor Tokyo was the issue made a part of the trials.1

  The operative definition of “crime” is: “Crime that you carried out but we did not.” To underscore the fact, Nazi war criminals were absolved if the defense could show that their U.S. counterparts carried out the same crimes.

  The Nuremberg Tribunal is commonly described by distinguished figures in the field of international law and justice as “the birth of universal jurisdiction.”1 That is correct only if we understand “universality” in accord with the practice of the enlightened states, which defines “universal” as “applicable to others only,” particularly enemies.

  The proper conclusion at Nuremberg and since would have been to punish the victors as well as the vanquished foe. Neither at the postwar trials nor subsequently have the powerful been subjected to the rules, not because they have not carried out crimes – of course they have – but because they are immune under prevailing standards of morality. The victims appear to understand well enough. Wire services report from Iraq that “If Iraqis ever see Saddam Hussein in the dock, they want his former American allies shackled beside him.”2 That inconceivable event would be a radical revision of the fundamental principle of international justice: tribunals must be restricted to the crimes of others.

  There is a marginal exception, which in fact underscores the force of the rule. Punishment is permissible when it is a mere tap on the wrist, evading the real crimes, or when blame can be restricted to minor figures, particularly when they are not like us. It was, for example, considered proper to punish the soldiers who carried out the My Lai massacre, half-educated, half-crazed GI's in the field, not knowing who was going to shoot at them next. But it was inconceivable that punishment could reach as far as those who planned and implemented Operation Wheeler Wallawa, a mass murder operation to which My Lai was a very minor footnote.3 The gentlemen in the air-conditioned offices are like us, therefore immune by definition. We are witnessing similar examples right now in Iraq.

  One moral truism that should be uncontroversial is the principle of universality: we should apply to ourselves the same standards we apply to others – in fact, more stringent ones. This should be uncontroversial for everyone, but particularly so for the world's most important citizens, the leaders of the enlightened states, who declare themselves to be devout Christians, devoted to the Gospels, hence surely familiar with their famous condemnation of the Hypocrite. Their devotion to the commandments of the Lord is not in question. George Bush reportedly proclaims that “God told me to strike at al-Qaeda and I struck them, and then He instructed me to strike at Saddam, which I did,” and “now I am determined to solve the problem of
the Middle East,”1 also at the command of the Lord of Hosts, the War God, whom we are instructed by the Holy Book to worship above all other gods. And as I mentioned, the elite press dutifully refers to his “messianic mission” to solve the problem of the Middle East – in fact the world – following our “responsibility to history to rid the world of evil,” in the President's words, the core principle of the “vision” that Bush shares with Osama bin Laden.

  This common response of the intellectual culture, some memorable exceptions aside, is entirely natural if we abandon the most elementary of moral truisms, and declare ourselves to be uniquely exempt from the principle of universality. And so we do, constantly. Every day brings new illustrations. The U.S. Senate lent its consent to the appointment of John Negroponte as Ambassador to Iraq, heading the world's largest diplomatic mission, which had the task of handing over “sovereignty” to Iraqis to fulfill Bush's “messianic vision” to bring democracy to the Middle East and the world, so we are solemnly informed. The appointment bears directly on the principle of universality, but before turning to that, we might raise some questions about other truisms, regarding evidence and conclusions.

  That the goal of the Iraq invasion is to fulfill the President's messianic vision is simply presupposed in news reporting and commentary, even among critics, who warn that the “noble” and “generous” vision may be beyond our reach. As the London Economist posed the problem, “America's mission” of turning Iraq into “an inspiring example [of democracy] to its neighbours” is facing obstacles.1 With a considerable search, I have not been able to find exceptions in the U.S. media, and with much less search, elsewhere, apart from the usual margins.