Providence | 2.26.18
By Alan W. Dowd
“We’re turning the page on a decade of war,” President Barack Obama promised Americans in 2012. He was definitely in tune with the American
people—wearied, as they were, by the costs of open-ended military
interventions from Afghanistan to Africa—but he was way off on the war’s
length.
In fact, by the time President Obama reassured the American people
they could turn the page on a decade of war and “focus on
nation-building here at home,” a Saudi terrorist had been waging global
guerilla war against America for the better part of two decades. The
attacks of September 11, 2001, merely marked the moment America awoke to
the nightmare.
Few Americans remembered on 9/11 that Osama bin Laden’s henchmen had attacked the World Trade Center years earlier, on February 26, 1993,
when Ramzi Yousef detonated a van full of explosives in the underground
parking garage of the north tower. The blast blew a hole 100-feet wide
and five stories deep into the bowels of the tower, killing seven and wounding 1,500.
We later learned that one of Yousef’s co-conspirators was related to bin Laden; that Yousef had stayed in bin Laden’s guest house before and after the attacks, as NBC reported; and that Yousef was the nephew of Khalid Sheikh Mohammed—the man who described himself as al-Qaeda’s “military operational commander for all foreign operations around the world” and took credit for that first attack on the World Trade Center.
In the months and years that followed, the attacks increased in frequency, ferocity, and audacity.
In October 1993, Somali warlord Farah Aidid’s militia brought down
two American helicopters and cut down 18 American troops in a daylong
gun battle in Mogadishu. “My colleagues fought with Farah Adid’s forces
in Somalia,” bin Laden later smilingly revealed.
In November 1995, four “self-described disciples of bin Laden” used a truck bomb to kill five American servicemen in Riyadh.
In August 1998, al-Qaeda conducted simultaneous attacks on United
States embassies in Kenya and Tanzania, killing 240 people, including 12
Americans.
In October 2000, al-Qaeda suicide-bombers attacked the USS Cole in the Yemeni port of Aden, killing 17 Americans.
Then, in September 2001, al-Qaeda maimed Manhattan and scarred the Pentagon, murdering 2,977 people.
Targets
Bin Laden had warned us that his cult of killers “do not
differentiate between those dressed in military uniforms and civilians;
they are all targets.” That became obvious on February 26, 1993, and
again on September 11, 2001, and again and again in the years that
followed.
After 9/11, the jihadist war on civilization bloodied Morocco and
Mumbai, Manchester and Madrid, Pakistan and Paris, Saudi Arabia and San
Bernardino, Istanbul and Indonesia, Ottawa and Orlando, Britain and
Brussels, Boston and Baghdad, Ft. Hood and the Philippines, Nairobi and
Nigeria, Ankara and Amman. The list goes on and on.
Some of the attacks were carried out by al-Qaeda, some by its offshoots, and some by organizations that used it as feedstock for their rise. But all of them were inspired by al-Qaeda and its
founding father. It’s as if bin Laden broke some sort of invisible
barrier with his audacious attacks on America.
Devoid of compunction, constraint, or conscience, bin Laden’s death
cult attacked commuters in London, vacationers in Bali, businessmen and
children in Manhattan and Arlington and Shanksville, Christian churches
in Pakistan and Baghdad, and Shiite pilgrims in Karbala. In 2007, long
before the Islamic State (ISIS) brutalized Iraq’s Yazidi minority,
al-Qaeda murdered 400 Yazidis, just because they were Yazidi.
In 2012, the remnants of al-Qaeda in Iraq—which had been crushed by the US surge only to reconstitute and rebrand after the US withdrawal—“morphed into the earliest version of ISIS,” as the Financial Times reported. ISIS has been called “worse than al-Qaeda,” and perhaps
deservedly so. As proof of its savage piety, ISIS summarily executed
thousands of Shiite Muslims; drowned and burned alive prisoners of war;
conducted genocide against Yazidis and Christians; executed imams and hospital workers; ordered Christians to convert or die; conducted a systematic campaign of rape in conquered territories; sold children into slavery; and used “mentally challenged” children as suicide bombers.
Differences
This is the enemy the US military has been fighting for decades now.
However, the US is not at war with Islam—after all, in the past
quarter-century US troops have rescued Muslims in Kosovo, Kurdistan,
Kabul, Somalia, and Sumatra—but it is at war those who would force
people to submit to Islam. It is at war with those who take literally
Muhammad’s injunction “to fight all men until they say, ‘There is no god
but Allah.’” It is at war with those who “do not differentiate between
those dressed in military uniforms and civilians.” It is at war with
murderers and rapists masquerading as holy men. It is at war with those
who seek to destroy civilization.
Make no mistake: There’s a vast difference between those who use
force to defend civilization and those who use force to dismember it.
Motives matter; as scripture reminds us, motives are weighed by the Lord. At its core, the primary
motive of our jihadist enemies is to kill and injure innocent civilians.
Yes, the bin Ladens, Baghdadis, and Zawahiris of the world have a
broader political goal, but to achieve that goal they must achieve the
primary goal of killing and maiming innocents. Terrorism loses its power
without achieving that goal.
America is not perfect. Without doubt, innocent people sometimes die
as a consequence of American military action. But the undeniable
difference between the terrorist and the US soldier, sailor, airman, and
Marine is motive and intention. Americans do differentiate between combatants and civilians, and we go to great lengths to prevent the loss of civilian life.
We see the difference in the way the enemy defines success and the
way we react to failure. When our terrorist enemies kill civilians, they
cheer and use their latest atrocity as a recruitment tool. When our
defenders kill civilians, they order bombing pauses; they investigate
and apologize; they demote and court-martial; they change targets and
scrub missions. And their civilian leaders invest in ever-more precise,
ever-more expensive weapons systems to prevent mistakes.
Attention
As ISIS collapses in Iraq and Syria, as al-Qaeda’s attacks on the homeland fade into history, Americans may be tempted to declare victory and turn their short attention spans elsewhere. That would be a mistake.
In December 2017, the US military killed “multiple” al-Qaeda
operatives in Afghanistan in a series of operations spanning several
weeks. Director of National Intelligence Daniel Coats reported this month that al-Qaeda is operating across large swaths of Mali,
Algeria, Tunisia, Libya, Niger, Kenya, Somalia, Yemen, Syria,
Afghanistan, and Pakistan.
This helps explain why US troops are still in Afghanistan, why the US military is bolstering its presence in Syria, and why US weapons releases are up 44 percent in Afghanistan, 29 percent in Iraq/Syria, and almost 10 percent in Yemen.
The war bin Laden began 25 years ago—what US military leaders aptly call “the long war”—is far from over.