The World & I
By Alan W. Dowd
According to a report released by the National Security Council, America’s enemies are “animated by a new fanatic faith, antithetical to our own, that seeks to impose its absolute authority over the rest of the world.” The challenges ahead of us, the report concludes, “are momentous, involving the fulfillment or destruction not only of this republic, but of civilization itself.”
The words are sobering, but given the events of September 11, they do little more than state the obvious—that is, until you consider they were written 51 years before the attacks on Washington and Manhattan. The words come from a document known simply as NSC-68, which detailed the threat of Soviet communism and outlined what the American people and their government needed to do to win the Cold War. More than half-a-century later, NSC-68 provides a fitting backdrop as the United States wades into a long, twilight struggle against yet another form of terror and fanaticism.
From Leninism to bin Ladenism
The parallels between the Cold War and the War on Terror are striking, but they are by no means perfect. As Mark Twain wryly observed, "History doesn't repeat itself, but it sometimes rhymes." The Cold War is at best an incomplete roadmap for waging and winning the War on Terror. Even so, it provides better directions than anything else history has to offer.
If that map is any indication, the War on Terror will be lengthy. When talking about the war, President George W. Bush speaks in terms of years and decades, not months. Indeed, Bush has suggested that just as his father’s generation waged the Cold War, his generation will wage the War on Terror. “This generation,” he vowed, “will lift a dark threat of violence from our people and our future.”  Bush is not alone in concluding that a long war lies ahead. Admiral Sir Michael Boyce, Chief of the British Defense Staff, is even more direct in his assessment of the war. The campaign against terrorism, he concluded last October, “may last 50 years.”
That’s because the enemy in the War on Terror is not a state or an individual, but an ideology. States can be defeated and overthrown, individuals killed or captured; but ideologies must be outlasted and discredited. This was true during the Cold War, and it remains true today. Lenin’s lies seduced anti-colonialists in Africa and the Middle East, elites in Europe and America, nationalists in Latin America and Asia. Likewise, al Queda’s tortured version of Islam transcends race, ethnicity, nationality and geography. The al-Queda terror network operates in 60 countries. The Taliban and al-Queda detainees in Cuba represent 25 different nationalities. They come not just from Saudi Arabia, Yemen and Afghanistan, but Europe, Australia and Britain. Indeed, at least one Taliban soldier was an American.
Moreover, al Queda is just one branch of transnational terror. A full year before the attacks on Manhattan and Washington, the FBI arrested 23 members and supporters of Hizballah—in suburban North Carolina of all places. It’s worth noting that before September 11, Hizballah had killed more Americans than any other terrorist group on earth.
No matter what banner they operate under, these people and the states that support them share a common goal, and it is the same goal the Soviets pursued—nothing less than a global revolution. As former FBI Director Louis Freeh keenly observed four months before September 11, al Queda’s ultimate objective is “to overthrow all governments which are not ruled by Sharia, or conservative Islamic law.” Their starting points may be light years apart—Leninism, after all, was an antitheist movement, while bin Ladenism is theocratic—but as bin Laden’s brutish designs and the Taliban’s backward regime remind us, their ending points are identical.
Crossing the Line
How, then, can America lead the civilized world to victory over such a foe? When confronted with the same question at the outset of the Cold War, Winston Churchill outlined the twin doctrines of deterrence and containment. “I do not believe that Soviet Russia desires war,” he observed in 1946. “What they desire is the fruits of war and the indefinite expansion of their power and doctrines.” To thwart those expansionist inclinations, Churchill called on the West to remain militarily strong and politically resolute. Offering a glimpse into the Soviet psyche, he concluded, “There is nothing they admire so much as strength.”
U.S. President Harry Truman agreed. Not only did he end America’s postwar military pullback, he drew a line around Stalin’s conquered lands. When communist forces tried to move across the line, the United States was obliged to resist them, or at least to help others resist them. From Korea and Vietnam to Central America and Afghanistan, the line was tested early and often. Yet the strategy of containment generally worked during the Cold War.
It won’t in the War on Terror. Unlike Soviet communism, Islamic radicalism cannot simply be contained behind the artificial lines on a map or deterred by massive armies. If nothing else, September 11 made that obvious. By bombing America’s military nerve center and attacking our largest city, terror’s foot soldiers have crossed a line the Red Army never even attempted to breach.
Containment presupposes coexistence, but coexistence is not anoption today because terrorist networks and governments, unlike the Soviets, do not recognize our legitimacy. And after September 11, Americans no longer recognize theirs. Capturing the sentiment of most Americans, Vice President Richard Cheney concludes that the struggle against terrorist regimes and groups “can only end with their complete and permanent destruction.”
They still lack the means to murder millions with a single blow. But that won’t be true forever. As Bush explained in his state of the union address, an eclectic mix of governments, terrorist organizations and terror syndicates has begun to coalesce into an ominous, if unplanned, phalanx. Some have money, some have intelligence capabilities, some have technology, some have personnel, and some have weapons of mass destruction. Whether they comprise an “axis of evil” or something else is irrelevant. These groups and states do exist, and they are working together to mete out revenge against their common enemy.
In testimony before the Senate Armed Services Committee in February, Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld echoed the president. “The nexus between weapons of mass destruction and the terrorist states that have those weapons—and that have relationships with terrorist networks—is a particularly dangerous circumstance for the world.” According to Rumsfeld, technology and terror have conspired to create “a very modest margin for error.”
In other words, there is no hotline, no face-saving summitry, no DEW line in the War on Terror. It is a conflict that blends all the killing and suffering of traditional warfare with all the tension and uncertainty of the Cold War to produce something different—a colder, harsher war.
It would be a mistake to conclude that the War on Terror can be waged and won solely on the battlefield. As the multifaceted campaign in Afghanistan illustrates, dismantling the architecture of global terror will require more than stealth bombers and Special Forces. “Victory will require that every element of American influence and power be engaged,” according to Rumsfeld.
The elements of U.S. power, while numerous, can be grouped under three broad headings: capital, creativity and continuity. The United States brought each of these to bear during the Cold War, and it must do so again to win the War on Terror. When Washington harnesses these three elements, the United States is transformed from a disinterested hermit republic into a geopolitical juggernaut—a superpower capable of defeating any foe and outlasting any transnational movement. Indeed, the revolutionary ideologies of Nazism, fascism and Leninism all succumbed to American capital, creativity and continuity. So, too, will bin Ladenism and its kindred ideologies.
Capitalism, Totalitarianism and Terrorism
As in the Cold War, America’s economic strength will play a pivotal role in the War on Terror. Boasting a $9.96 trillion GDP, the United States is the richest country on earth. Its wealth spurs technological innovation, fires the furnace of global capitalism, draws people like a great magnet away from their homelands, and tears down real and imagined barriers. Indeed, the almost irresistible pull of American wealth fuels much of the hate, envy and inferiority that animates al Queda and its sponsors. They targeted the World Trade Center for a reason.
In military terms, this colder war promises to be at least as expensive as the Cold War: Washington will devote $369 billion to defense in 2003—a 12 percent increase over 2002—and the White House projects massive increases for the foreseeable future. In fact, the OMB estimates defense outlays of $4.5 trillion over the next decade.
But if the Cold War is any guide, that’s only the beginning. Billions more will be spent wooing new allies and pacifying old ones.
Truman recognized early on that the Cold War would be fought not just with weapons, but with money—lots of money. “The seeds of totalitarian regimes are nurtured by misery and want,” he declared at the dawn of the Cold War. “They spread and grow in the evil soil of poverty and strife.” To prevent those seeds from taking root, Truman relied on generous aid programs. In what amounted to America’s initial Cold War insurance payment, Truman spent $400 million holding back the Iron Curtain outside Turkey and Greece. In just over three years, the Marshall Plan poured $10.2 billion into Western Europe’s industry and economy.
However, foreign-aid programs may not have the same impact in the struggle between bin Ladenism and liberal democracy as they did during the Cold War. The White House is wisely not planning a modern-day Marshall Plan for the Middle East. In fact, Bush’s budget actually cuts foreign-aid spending by 2.4 percent. Instead of massive and lavish spending, Bush is shunting U.S. assistance to key allies in the War on Terror. Washington has pledged $600 million to Islamabad, and the State Department is working with the International Monetary Fund to relieve Pakistan’s crushing debt of $3 billion. The president’s 2003 budget earmarks $3.5 billion for economic aid and military assistance, with hundreds of millions targeted for Russia, the former Soviet states of Central Asia, the Philippines and Pakistan. Military aid to Jordan is expected to jump from $75 million to $198 million, while economic aid will increase by 67 percent. During his whirlwind tour of the Middle East, Cheney pledged some $270 million to longtime ally Turkey. Millions more are being spent on humanitarian assistance in Afghanistan.
The seeds of 21st-century terrorism may grow in the soil of misery and want, but they also grow in the sands of Saudi decadence and abundance. As military historian Victor Davis Hanson suggests, the problem is not just poverty, but “a state of mind in which millions lose their senses and in their hypnotic state allow liars and criminals to blame others for their own largely self-inflicted ills.” Of the nineteen men who attacked the Pentagon and World Trade Center on September 11, fifteen were born and raised in the cloistered wealth of Saudi Arabia. They didn’t come from the shanties of Gaza or the ghettoes of Malaysia. It was a Saudi millionaire who trained them and indoctrinated them, and many of them took their first taste of his poisoned brand of Islam in Saudi-supported schools.
These schools, which dot the Middle East, are producing tomorrow’s bin Ladens by the thousands. The countries that countenance and fund them must be called to task. Saudi Arabia is one such country, and it is a stark reminder that some governments cannot be cajoled by cash. That’s why “regime change” is necessary beyond the obvious examples. However, that doesn’t necessarily mean the U.S. military has to be involved in the changing.
That brings us to creativity. America’s capacity to be diplomatically and militarily creative is unrivaled. As Alexis de Tocqueville observed in the 19th century, “Americans always display a clear, free, original and inventive power of the mind.”
President Franklin Delano Roosevelt relied on creative diplomacy to forge an alliance with an imperial monarchy and a communist dictatorship. His arsenal of democracy vanquished three empires in four years. Within months of the war’s conclusion, his successor was inviting our wartime enemies into an alliance against our wartime ally. Over the next four decades, this unstoppable force of American creativity rebuilt Europe and Japan; repelled communists in Korea and Germany; and tore down the Soviet empire.
Some of that same creativity has already been put on display in this new war—both diplomatically and militarily.
At great risk to his government, Gen. Pervez Musharraf abruptly ended Pakistan’s long slide into Islamist oblivion just days after the attacks on Washington and New York. His conversion came as a direct result of Washington’s decision to be creative and candid.
According to information unearthed by the Washington Post, Secretary of State Colin Powell gave Musharraf a non-negotiable list of demands in the wake of September 11. The seven-point list called on the general to intercept and detain al-Queda operatives; to end all logistical support for bin Laden; to grant U.S. warplanes over-flight and landing rights; to grant the U.S. military access to naval and air bases; to share intelligence and immigration information with Washington; to publicly condemn the September 11 attacks and "curb all domestic expressions of support for terrorism against the [United States], its friends or allies;” to cut off fuel shipments to the Taliban and bar Pakistani volunteers from going into Afghanistan; and to break diplomatic relations with the Taliban.
That was a lot to ask of the government that created the Taliban. Yet Musharraf, seemingly liberated by the honesty and gravity of the moment, agreed without hesitation and has marched alongside Washington throughout the Afghan war. Financial incentives have no doubt helped, but they would never have been on the table without Powell’s creative diplomacy.
It’s time for Secretary Powell to deliver a similar message to America’s erstwhile friends in Saudi Arabia. As Washington repeatedly proved during the 20th century, alliances are not immortal. If Riyadh doesn’t follow Pakistan’s lead and take the path of reform, perhaps it’s time for the United States to find new friends in the neighborhood and new sources of petroleum.
The architects of America’s 20th-century victories had the courage and foresight to be creative, to call Marshal Stalin “Uncle Joe” when it suited U.S. interests—and to threaten him with annihilation when those interests changed. We should learn from their guile.
In Iran, for example, creative diplomacy could widen the gap between political moderates and religious extremists—both in the government and society. Rhetorical salvos like Bush’s “axis of evil” reference should be documented for an international audience from the White House bully pulpit, while satellite and radio transmissions explain the case against the clerics for an Iranian audience. This all-important local phase of the propaganda war is already underway: According to the White House, the United States has increased “media broadcasts in and around Afghanistan and throughout the Middle East to help inform public opinion about the true nature of terrorist organizations and the purposes of the U.S. War on Terrorism.”
As the Cold War illustrated, far from condemning the messenger, those who suffer under evil regimes more often appreciate hearing the truth. The hope President Ronald Reagan offered Poles, Czechs, Hungarians and Russians when he ended the diplomatic charade and called the Soviet Union what it was can never be measured. Perhaps the same is happening today inside Iran.
Diplomatic creativity is also needed to reposition America strategically and reform the Middle East politically.
Washington has already cemented a new relationship with Moscow, a would-be oil exporter. In addition to changing the political complexion of Pakistan and Afghanistan, the White House has built bridges to Georgia, Uzbekistan and Tajikistan. But more out-of-the-box thinking needs to be done to shore up Washington’s long-term posture in the region.
If Iran, Iraq and North Korea comprise an “axis of evil,” Turkey, Jordan and Pakistan could become a triangle of stability in the long war ahead. Not only are these countries strategically situated across the arc of crisis, which will be critical when the war is carried beyond Afghanistan, they are models for the rest of the Islamic world. Indeed, they provide three distinct political alternatives to the systems that have crippled and corrupted the Islamic world—bin Ladenism, Baathism, Shiite fundamentalism and Wahabi feudalism.
Turkey provides the best model not because it is secular, but because it is a Western-style democracy, committed to free markets and free government. After World War II, Turkey resisted both communism and Islamic fundamentalism, pinning its future on the West. A member of NATO since 1952, the Republic of Turkey has stood with the United States from the Korean War to the Gulf War to the War on Terror. Indeed, Turkey’s solidarity has been unambiguous. As Turkish Defense Minister Sabahattin Cakmakoglu put it, "Turkey gives full support to the U.S. struggle against terrorism.” According to Rumsfeld, Turkey was involved in the Afghan phase of the war from the very outset.
Turkey is not perfect, but it is diverse, free and predominantly Muslim. And it has proven that Western government can work in an Islamic country.
Jordan is politically and ethnically different than Turkey, but its goals are identical. King Abdullah governs Jordan as a benign monarch, and he has pledged his full support to the U.S.-led War on Terror. In fact, Abdullah has endorsed Bush’s description of the axis of evil. "I think it's very obvious that there are those that are on the side of good and those that are on the side of bad, and there are some countries that haven't made up their mind,” he observed. “Those countries better make up their minds pretty quickly." Even so, the king has expressed qualms about prematurely carrying the war into Iraq. With a sizable and sometimes-restive Palestinian population, Abdullah worries that neither his kingdom nor the region can simultaneously withstand an Israeli-Palestinian war and another U.S.-Iraq war.
Still, his kingdom boasts a popularly elected legislature. It has made real peace with Israel. Following his father’s footsteps, Abdullah is privatizing state-run industries and has brought Jordan into the World Trade Organization. Like Turkey’s postwar leaders, he recognizes that Jordan’s future lies with the West. And he understands that just as Jordan’s kingdom can thrive in a free-market world, Jordan’s religious traditions can thrive in an open society.
Finally, Pakistan offers the least-preferred model for Islamic states. After all, it was Pakistan that spawned the Taliban. Moreover, Pakistan is still ruled by an un-elected general. Even so, Pakistan’s 11th-hour conversion and whiplash transformation are preferable to what most of its neighbors are doing. Musharraf seems genuinely committed to the United States and the new path he has chosen: Not only has he agreed to Powell’s demands, he is doing locally what Washington vows to do globally—draining the spawning grounds of terror.
Beset by internal pressures and external threats (India still looms large to the east), it won’t be easy for Musharraf. But he deserves our support. It pays to recall that Turkey struggled through its own difficult stretches during the Cold War, but thanks to steadfast U.S. encouragement and creative diplomacy it survived.
Given their weaknesses and flaws, these countries may not appear to be ideal partners in the War on Terror. Of course, the same could have been said in April 1949, when Washington tied its security and future to Belgium, Denmark, France, Italy, Luxembourg, the Netherlands, Norway and Portugal. Devastated by war and riven by distrust, America’s Cold War alliance was built on far shakier ground than today’s emerging triangle of stability.
What the State Department cannot achieve through diplomatic creativity, the Pentagon must achieve through military audacity. Once it is unfettered, the U.S. military can be the most audacious and fearsome force on earth, which Stalin and his successors learned repeatedly during the Cold War.
When Stalin tried to squeeze the allies out of Berlin by blockading the city's western half, the United States used a clever mix of restraint and resolve to win the first battle of the Cold War. It was Lt. Gen. Curtis LeMay who led the American Air Force into that battle, blending the principles of strategic bombing with the efficiency and ingenuity of a Detroit assembly line. From June 28, 1948 to September 30, 1949, U.S. pilots flew 277,000 missions and delivered 2.3 million tons of supplies into Berlin. Landing every three minutes, the planes sent a simple message to Moscow: Berlin will remain free, and the United States will not be bullied out of town.
During those 15 months of brinkmanship, the United States showcased not just its military might, political resolve, and seemingly boundless industrial capacity, but its unique ability to balance all of these in the pursuit of its national interests.
Although the Cold War would continue for decades, the Berlin Airlift laid the foundation for everything that followed — on both sides of the Iron Curtain. With the world watching, the siege and subsequent rescue of Berlin exposed the stark differences between the two postwar superpowers. One looked like a common street thug, bullying his neighbors to extort protection money. The other resembled Hercules, swooping down from Olympus to defend the defenseless. Moscow would never fully recover, and Washington would never retreat.
A year after the airlift, when all seemed lost in Korea, Gen. Douglass MacArthur did the impossible by swinging around and behind the massive communist armies and landing some 70,000 troops at Inchon. In a matter of days, they recaptured Seoul, smashed the communist invaders and reversed the momentum of the Korean War. The war would continue for another two and a half years, but those years were marked by stalemate. South Korea's existence would never be threatened after MacArthur's daring amphibious landings.
If Afghanistan is any indication, the Pentagon is applying those Cold War lessons to the War on Terror. The U.S. military has done what many said was impossible, what Soviet Russia couldn’t do in the 20th century and Imperial Britain couldn’t do in the 19th—win a war Afghanistan. Using an improbable taskforce of helicopter-borne Marines, Special Forces troops on horseback and high-tech aircraft, the United States erased in five weeks what it took the Taliban five years to build.
However, the Pentagon didn’t just topple the Taliban and flush out bin Laden’s terror network—it simultaneously swooped in to rescue a war-weary people from starvation. In the final three months of 2001 alone, the United States provided $187 million in relief to the friendless Afghanis, airdropped 2.4 million meal rations and helped deliver another 127,000 tons of food and water over land. U.S. forces and agencies will provide an additional $320 million in humanitarian aid in 2002, feeding and clothing some 7.5 million Afghanis.
In a sense, the ambidextrous operation in Afghanistan is this generation’s Berlin, where America lays the foundation for a new kind of war and sends a message to friend and foe alike that more of the same lies ahead.
Continuity and Patience
Sustaining a massive diplomatic-military-humanitarian-political offensive across the world and across the decades won’t be easy, but it could be the difference between success and failure in the War on Terror. At first glance, passing this strange, new war from one administration to another, one political party to another, one generation to another, seems an impossible task. However, America is surprisingly well-suited for waging such a war.
De Tocqueville explained why during his trek across the United States in the 1830s. In de Tocqueville’s view, citizens in democracies are not inclined toward war because they are focused on personal pursuits and interests. This makes democracies susceptible to surprise and even defeat at the outset of war, especially after a long period of peace. (December 7 and September 11 are graphic illustrations of de Tocqueville’s assessment.) But once the people are affected by war and roused “from their peaceful occupations,” according to de Tocqueville, “the same passions that made them attach so much importance to the maintenance of peace will be turned to arms.” The war is thus transformed from an affair of state and statesmen into a national mission, an all-encompassing struggle against the enemy.
Thanks to modern telecommunications, that transformation happened in a single instant on September 11, 2001. It didn’t take weeks or months to rouse us from our slumber. And if de Tocqueville’s calculus is accurate, we will remain committed to the war until victory is won.
That’s what happened during both the high-intensity frenzy of World War II and the glacial struggle with Moscow that followed. The United States waged the Cold War for more than four decades. During that time, as a long, gray line of communist ideologues took turns running the Kremlin, the U.S. presidency passed from a New Deal Democrat to an apolitical general to an Ivy League aristocrat to a Texas janitor to a Machiavellian realist to a Midwestern football star to a Wilsonian idealist to a Hollywood hawk to a blue-blood Republican. Yet these politically, philosophically and socially diverse men carried out a foreign policy of remarkable continuity.
They couldn’t have done so without the political support of the American people, who displayed both patience and an unswerving willingness to sacrifice treasure, lives and peace of mind in the struggle against Soviet communism. From 1947-1989, Americans would spend some $5 trillion, build and man more than 600 overseas bases, and sacrifice 100,000 lives to wage and win the Cold War. But Americans risked much more than their money and military during the war. By facing down the Red Army in Berlin and refusing to trade German or French or Turkish soil for American security, Washington in effect put American cities and American citizens in Moscow’s crosshairs. The ensuing terror became a part of life in America.
September 11 taught us that we are still in the crosshairs, but today’s enemy has the will to pull the trigger—or perhaps better said, lacks the judgment not to. Al Queda’s goals may be the same as Stalin’s, but its methods are radically different. To defeat it, our methods must change as well.
By its very nature, this colder war requires America to reevaluate what is necessary for its security and redefine what is acceptable behavior for nations and trans-national organizations. As Admiral Boyce puts it, London and Washington have to “rewrite the rule book."
For example, it no longer makes sense to allow terror to fester inside a sick society and metastasize across borders; to pretend that sanctions are an effective weapon against terrorist states; to shame the shameless with State Department reports; to simply complain about weapons being shipped from North Korea to Iran, and from Iran to Gaza; to allow Iraq to hide its biological and nuclear programs in subterranean laboratories. The United States must now preempt their attacks, intercept their weapons, tear down the vast infrastructure of terror, and remove the men who built it and hide behind it.
To borrow the parlance of the Cold War, Bush and his successors must roll back Islamic radicalism, its patrons and its partners. And the work cannot end once the guns fall silent. In the farsighted words of NSC-68, we must “persevere until our national objectives have been attained.” In many cases, U.S. troops will need to stay behind as insurance against another round of terror. Whether it’s called nation-building or occupation duty, American personnel have often served as the key ingredient to long-term stability. There’s no better proof of that than Europe, which spawned two world wars and at least seven other major international wars between 1863 and 1939—but none since the United States began its occupation after World War II. (The wars in Yugoslavia at least began as civil wars. Of course, even they highlight the critical importance of American troops on the ground: It was ultimately U.S. intervention and occupation that ended Milosevic’s siege.)
Bush has already employed this 21st-century version of rollback in Afghanistan, and he seems eager to apply it beyond the lacerated land once governed by the Taliban, beyond Somalia and Sudan, even beyond Iraq: According to the Washington Post, when CIA Director George Tenet cautioned Bush that Afghanistan was just one of perhaps 60 nations harboring terrorists, the president coldly responded, "Let's pick them off one at a time."
The president’s words, while dark, actually embody a uniquely American brand of optimism—the belief that the United States has the capacity, indeed the responsibility, to make the world better. As Thomas Paine explained during another time of tumult and war, “We have it in our power to begin the world over again.”
Much has changed since those words were written—after all, today’s revolutionaries seek to eradicate freedom and pluralism rather than cultivate them—but much remains the same.
“NSC Paper 68,” Major Problems in American Foreign Policy, Thomas Paterson, Ed., 1989, p.301.
George W. Bush, address to Congress, September 20, 2002.
BBC News, “War on terror may last 50years,” news.bbc.co.uk, October 27, 2001.
Louis Freeh, statement to committees of the U.S. Senate, May 10, 2001.
 Winston Churchill, Iron Curtain Speech, 1946.
Dick Cheney, speech at Alfred E. Smith Dinner, October 18, 2001.
Donald Rumsfeld, remarks before Senate Armed Services Committee, February 5, 2002.
 Donald Rumsfeld, press conference, November 1, 2001.
 OMB, “Summary of Tables,” http://www.whitehouse.gov/, 3-18-02.
 Harry Truman, “Truman Doctrine,” Major Problems in American Foreign Policy, Thomas Paterson, Ed., 1989, p.297.
 Office of Management and Budget, “Winning the War on Terrorism Abroad,” www.whitehouse.gov/omb, 3-18-02, p.2.
“International Assistance,” Congressional Quarterly, February 11, 2002.
 Victor D. Hanson, “Breeding Ground,” National Review Online, January 22, 2002.
 Alexis de Tocqueville, Democracy in America, New York: The Modern Library, p. 334.
Dan Balz and Bob Woodward, “Ten Days in September,” Washington Post, January 26-February 3, 2002.
 OMB, p.2.
 Hande Culpan, “Rumsfeld gets full support from Turkey in anti-terror struggle,” AFP News, October 2001.
 Janine Zacharia, “Jordan's Abdullah endorses Bush's war against axis of evil,” Jerusalem Post, Feb 3, 2002.
 White House Office of Management and Budget, “The Global War in Terrorism,” December 2001.
 OMB, “Winning the War on Terrorism Abroad.”
 De Tocqueville, pp.547-548.
 BBC News, October 27, 2001.
Dan Balz and Bob Woodward, “America's Chaotic Road to War,” Washington Post, January 27, 2002.