% FROM THE NOAM CHOMSKY ARCHIVE
% http://www.contrib.andrew.cmu.edu:/usr/tp0x/chomsky.html
% ftp://ftp.cs.cmu.edu/user/cap/chomsky/
% Filename:    articles/chomsky.z.gulf-crisis
% Title:       The Gulf Crisis
% Author:      Noam Chomsky
% Appeared-in: Z Magazine, February 1991
% Source:      mt@debussy.media-lab.media.mit.edu (Michael Travers)
% Keywords:    Iraq, Kuwait, Bush, Saddam
% Synopsis:    Analysis on eve of US bombing
% See-also:    

                         THE GULF CRISIS
                          Noam Chomsky
                          January 1991
                    Z Magazine, February 1991


Aggression and Response

Iraq's invasion of Kuwait on August 2, 1990 evoked a strong
response from the industrial powers; in fact, two rather
different responses.  The first was an array of economic
sanctions of unprecedented severity. The second was the threat of
war. Both responses were initiated at once, even before Iraq's
annexation of the invaded country. The first response had broad
support. The second is pretty much limited to the U.S. and
Britain, apart from the family dictatorships that had been placed
in charge of the Gulf oil producing states. As leader of the
two-member coalition, the U.S. moved quickly to ensure that
sanctions could not be effective and to bar any diplomatic
initiative.

Two questions at once arise: What explains the unprecedented
actions?  What lies behind the tactical division over generally
shared objectives?

The second question is rarely raised explicitly, except in the
course of complaints about our faint-hearted and money-grubbing
allies, who lack the courage, integrity and sturdy national
character of the Anglo-American duo. The general question,
however, suffers from no shortage of answers, including
impressive phrases about the sanctity of international law and
the U.N. Charter, and our historic mission to punish anyone who
dares to violate these sacred principles by resorting to force.
President Bush declared that ``America stands where it always
has, against aggression, against those who would use force to
replace the rule of law.'' While some questioned his tactical
judgment, there was widespread admiration for the President's
honorable stand, and his forthright renewal of our traditional
dedication to nonviolence, the rule of law, and the duty of
protecting the weak and oppressed. Scholarship weighed in, adding
historical and cross-cultural depth. A noted Cambridge University
Professor of Political Science wrote in the Times Literary
Supplement (London) that ``Our traditions, fortunately, prove to
have at their core universal values, while theirs are sometimes
hard to distinguish with the naked eye from rampant (and heavily
armed) nihilism. In the Persian Gulf today, President Bush could
hardly put it more bluntly. . . .'' Others too basked in
self-adulation, though it was conceded that we had not always
applied our traditional values with complete consistency,
failures that we are sure to rectify as soon as we have finished
with the business at hand. These past lapses are commonly
attributed to our understandable preoccupation with defense
against the Russians, now of lesser urgency with the U.S. triumph
in the Cold War.

The issue was raised to cosmic significance, with visions of a
New World Order of peace and justice that lies before us if only
the new Hitler can be stopped before he conquers the
world---after having failed to overcome post-revolutionary Iran
with its severely weakened military, even with the support of the
U..S., USSR, Europe, and the major Arab states. ``We live in one
of those rare transforming moments in history,'' Secretary Baker
declared, with the Cold War over and ``an era full of promise''
just ahead, if we can avoid ``the self-defeating path of
pretending not to see.'' Commentators marvelled at the ``wondrous
sea change'' at the United Nations, which is ``functioning as it
was designed to do . . . for virtually the first time in its
history'' and thus offering ``a bold pattern of peacekeeping for
the post-Cold War world'' (New York Times). The standard
explanation is that with the U.S. victory in the Cold War, Soviet
obstructionism and the ``shrill, anti-Western rhetoric'' of the
Third World no longer render the U.N. ineffective.


Narrowing the Options

Professing high principle, Washington moved vigorously to block
all diplomatic efforts, restricting its own contacts with Iraq to
delivery of an ultimatum demanding immediate and total
capitulation to U.S. force---what George Bush called ``going the
extra mile to achieve a peaceful solution.'' Europeans were
warned not to deviate from the firm U.S. rejection of any form of
diplomacy or any hint of willingness to negotiate. Washington
also sternly rejected any ``linkage'' with regional issues,
expressing its moral revulsion at the very thought of rewarding
an aggressor by considering problems of armaments, security, and
others in a regional context. The effect was to minimize the
likelihood that Iraqi withdrawal from Kuwait might be arranged
without the threat or use of force. It is difficult to imagine
that this was not the purpose of the rejection of ``linkage,''
also an unprecedented stand.

These solemn declarations of high principle were generally
accepted at face value, leaving unchallenged the pretexts offered
for war. Debate was therefore limited to tactical questions of
U.S. interest. In this limited frame, the Administration is sure
to prevail, and did. The rhetorical stance, in contrast, could
not have survived the slightest challenge. The general abdication
of critical standards was thus a matter of no small
importance---not for the first time.

Some did express concern, and a degree of wonder, over the
inability of backward sectors to perceive our nobility. ``Perhaps
most troublesome for Bush in his effort to create a `new world
order','' one reporter observed plaintively, is the fact that ``a
surprising number of Europeans believe that the United States is
in the gulf not to free Kuwait or punish Saddam Hussein but to
bolster its own influence and power.'' A poll reported in the
same paper the same day (Boston Globe, Jan. 13) revealed that a
surprising number of Americans share these delusions, believing
that control over oil is the ``key reason'' for the U.S. troop
presence (50%), not ``liberation of Kuwait from Iraqi
occupation'' (28%) or ``neutralization of Iraq's weapons
capabilities (14%). Such confusions are even more rampant in the
Third World, apart from the wealthy and privileged elements
which, like their counterparts here, have a proper understanding
of our innate virtue and benevolence.

Washington's explicit rejection of any form of diplomacy was
welcomed as a ``sensational offer to negotiate'' (in the words of
a British loyalist), a forthcoming willingness to ``explore any
diplomatic avenue,'' along the ``diplomatic track'' that had been
effectively blocked. There was eloquent rhetoric about Iraqi
human rights abuses, and the anguish they caused George Bush, who
``keeps copies of Amnesty International's reports on Iraqi
torture in his office'' (Daniel Yergin) and whose soul had been
seared by the experience of fighting to stop Hitler and Tojo,
after the cowardly appeasers had let them go too far.

Rejection of diplomacy was explicit from the outset. New York
Times chief diplomatic correspondent Thomas Friedman (in effect,
the State Department voice at the Times) attributed the
Administration's rejection of ``a diplomatic track'' to its
concern that negotiations might ``defuse the crisis'' at the cost
of ``a few token gains in Kuwait'' for the Iraqi dictator,
perhaps ``a Kuwaiti island or minor border adjustments'' (August
22). Anything short of capitulation to U.S. force is
unacceptable, whatever the consequences.

Diplomatic options opened shortly after Saddam Hussein realized
the nature of the forces arrayed against him, apparently with
some surprise, though we cannot evaluate their prospects because
they were barred at once by Washington's rigid rejectionism. On
August 12, Iraq proposed a settlement linking its withdrawal from
Kuwait to withdrawal from other occupied Arab lands: Syria and
Israel from Lebanon, and Israel from the territories it conquered
in 1967. Two weeks later, about the time that Friedman warned of
the dangers of diplomacy, the Times learned of a considerably
more far-reaching offer from Iraq, but chose to suppress it. A
similar (or perhaps the same) offer was leaked to the suburban
New York journal Newsday, which published it very prominently on
August 29, compelling the Times to give it marginal and
dismissive notice the next day. The Iraqi offer was delivered to
National Security Adviser Brent Scowcroft by a former
high-ranking U.S. official on August 23. It called for Iraqi
withdrawal from Kuwait in return for the lifting of sanctions,
full Iraqi control of the Rumailah oil field that extends about 2
miles into Kuwaiti territory over a disputed border, and
guaranteed Iraqi access to the Gulf, which involves the status of
two uninhabited islands that had been assigned by Britain to
Kuwait in the imperial settlement, thus leaving Iraq virtually
landlocked. Iraq also proposed negotiations on an oil agreement
``satisfactory to both nations' national security interest,'' on
``the stability of the gulf,'' and on plans ``to alleviate Iraq's
economical and financial problems.''  There was no mention of
U.S. troop withdrawal or other preconditions.  An Administration
official who specializes in Mideast affairs described the
proposal as ``serious'' and ``negotiable.''

Like others, this diplomatic opportunity quickly passed. Where
noted at all in the media, the offer was dismissed on the grounds
that the White House was not interested; surely true, and
sufficient for the offer to be written out of history, on the
assumption that all must serve the whims of power. Iraqi
proposals continued to surface, along with others. As of January
15, the last known example was made public on January 2, when
U.S. officials disclosed an Iraqi offer ``to withdraw from Kuwait
if the United States pledges not to attack as soldiers are pulled
out, if foreign troops leave the region, and if there is
agreement on the Palestinian problem and on the banning of all
weapons of mass destruction in the region'' (Knut Royce, Newsday,
Jan. 3). Officials described the offer as ``interesting'' because
it dropped any claims to the islands in the Gulf and the Rumailah
oil field, and ``signals Iraqi interest in a negotiated
settlement.'' A State Department Mideast expert described the
proposal as a ``serious prenegotiation position.'' The U.S.
``immediately dismissed the proposal,'' Royce continues. It
passed without mention in the Times, and was barely noted
elsewhere.

The Times did however report on the same day that Yasser Arafat,
after consultations with Saddam Hussein, indicated that neither
of them ``insisted that the Palestinian problem be solved before
Iraqi troops get out of Kuwait.'' According to Arafat, the report
continues, ``Mr. Hussein's statement Aug. 12, linking an Iraqi
withdrawal to an Israeli withdrawal from the West Bank and Gaza
Strip, was no longer operative as a negotiating demand.'' All
that is necessary is ``a strong link to be guaranteed by the five
permanent members of the Security Council that we have to solve
all the problems in the Gulf, in the Middle East and especially
the Palestinian cause.''

Two weeks before the deadline for Iraqi withdrawal, then, the
possible contours of a diplomatic settlement appeared to be
these: Iraq would withdraw completely from Kuwait with a U.S.
pledge not to attack withdrawing forces; foreign troops leave the
region; the Security Council indicates a serious commitment to
settle other major regional problems. Disputed border issues
would be left for later consideration. Once again, we cannot
evaluate the prospects for settlement along these---surely
reasonable---lines, because the offers were flatly rejected, and
scarcely entered the media or public awareness. The United States
and Britain maintained their commitment to force alone.

The strength of that commitment was again exhibited when France
made a last-minute effort to avoid war on January 14, proposing
that the Security Council call for ``a rapid and massive
withdrawal'' from Kuwait along with a statement that Council
members would bring their ``active contribution'' to a settlement
of other problems of the region, ``in particular, of the
Arab-Israeli conflict and in particular to the Palestinian
problem by convening, at an appropriate moment, an international
conference'' to assure ``the security, stability and development
of this region of the world.'' The French proposal was supported
by Belgium, a Council member, and Germany, Spain, Italy, Algeria,
Morocco, Tunisia, and several non-aligned nations. The U.S. and
Britain rejected it (along with the Soviet Union, irrelevantly).
U.N. Ambassador Thomas Pickering stated that the proposal was
unacceptable, because it went beyond previous U.N. resolutions on
the Iraqi invasion.

The Ambassador's statement was technically correct. The wording
of the proposal is drawn from a different source, namely, a
Security Council decision of December 20, adjoined to Resolution
681, which calls on Israel to observe the Geneva Conventions in
the occupied territories. In that statement the members of the
Security Council called for ``an international conference, at an
appropriate time, properly structured,'' to help ``achieve a
negotiated settlement and lasting peace in the Arab-Israeli
conflict.'' The statement was excluded from the actual Resolution
to prevent a U.S. veto. Note that there was no ``linkage'' to the
Iraqi invasion, which was unmentioned.

We do not, again, know whether the French initiative could have
succeeded in averting war. The U.S. feared that it might, and
therefore blocked it, in accord with its zealous opposition to
any form of diplomacy, and, in this case, its equally strong
opposition to an international conference that might lead the way
towards a political settlement of the Arab-Israeli conflict that
the U.S. has long opposed. In this rejectionism, George Bush was
joined by Saddam Hussein, who gave no public indication of any
interest in the French proposal, though doing so might possibly
have averted war.

The U.S. at once dispatched a huge expeditionary force to the
Gulf (even before the annexation, which was therefore not a
factor in this decision). That force was virtually doubled after
the November elections. While a deterrent force could be kept in
the desert and offshore, hundreds of thousands of troops cannot
be maintained in the desert for long, and withdrawal of this
military force without victory was ruled out by same lofty
rhetorical stance that blocked the diplomatic track. The
predictable effect of this decision---and, presumably, its
purpose---was to undercut the reliance on sanctions, which could
only have an impact over an extended period.

We might take a moment to review the standard arguments against
sanctions. Advocates of force observed somberly that there is no
guarantee that sanctions would work. That is quite true; there is
also no guarantee that the sun will rise tomorrow. There is,
however, a strong probability that in this case sanctions would
have been effective, if only because of their extraordinary
severity, and because---for once---the usual ``sanctions
busters'' (the U.S., Britain, and their allies) happen to be on
board, a simple truth that plainly cannot be expressed.

It was also argued that we cannot delay until sanctions have an
effect. Why can't we wait? One reason offered is that the
coalition would not hold---a tacit concession of the lack of
support for the U.S. stance. Another is that it would be too
costly for us. But the costs of a deterrent force would, in fact,
be slight. The main argument is again high moral principle: it
offends our sensibilities to stand by while the aggressor remains
unpunished. That is not very convincing, to put it mildly. As
Edward Herman discussed in the January issue of Z magazine, for
two decades South Africa defied the U.N. and the World Court on
Namibia, looting and terrorizing the occupied country and using
it as a base for its aggression against neighboring states,
exacting an awesome toll. In the 1980s, the cost of South African
terror just to its neighbors is estimated by the UN Economic
Commission on Africa at more than $60 billion and 1.5 million
lives. No one proposed bombing South Africa, or withholding food.
The U.S. pursued ``quiet diplomacy'' and ``constructive
engagement,'' insisting upon ``linkage'' to a variety of other
issues, with thoughtful consideration of the interests of the
occupiers. Exactly the same was true when George Shultz attempted
to broker Israel's partial withdrawal from Lebanon, also with
ample reward for the aggressor, who had been the beneficiary of
U.S. material aid and Security Council vetoes as it battered the
defenseless country in the course of completely unprovoked
aggression that opened, symbolically, with bombing of civilian
targets leaving over 200 killed, including 60 patients in a
children's hospital.

Avoidance of ``linkage,'' whatever the merits of this stance, is
another diplomatic innovation devised for the present case.
Obviously, it reflects no high principle. In fact, no argument
whatsoever was presented for this radical departure from normal
procedure---and none was needed, given the reflexive obedience of
the educated classes.

From the outset, then, policy was carefully designed to reduce
the likely alternatives to two: war, or Iraqi capitulation to a
display of armed might. Crucially, the peaceful means prescribed
by international law must be barred. On that fundamental
principle, the U.S. and Britain have been adamant, standing
almost alone.

The moral level of debate was illustrated by the reaction to an
influential interview with the commander of the U.S. forces,
General Norman Schwartzkopf, featured in a front-page story in
the New York Times, which opened as follows:

``The commander of the American forces facing Iraq said today
that his troops could obliterate Iraq, but cautioned that total
destruction of that country might not be `in the interest of the
long-term balance of power in this region'.''

The warning was elaborated by others. In a typical example, Times
Middle East specialist Judith Miller, under the heading
``Political Cost of Victory Questioned,'' wrote:

  There are few who doubt that if there is a war in the Persian
  Gulf, the United States and its allies can ``turn Baghdad into a
  parking lot,'' as an American diplomat in the Middle East recently
  put it. But many analysts are increasingly concerned about the
  probable effect of such a victory on longer-term American
  interests in the region.  William Crowe, a former Chairman of the
  Joint Chiefs of Staff, warned last week that ``many Arabs would
  deeply resent a campaign that would necessarily kill large
  numbers of their Muslim brothers. . . .''

In short, we could slaughter 17 million people and wipe a country
off the face of the earth, but mass extermination might be
tactically unwise, harmful to our interests. This wrenching moral
issue was thoughtfully discussed in many articles. Those who have
expressed concern over the decline of our traditional values may
rest assured.


High Principle

As noted, the largely uncritical acceptance of Washington's
rhetorical stance by articulate opinion was no insignificant
matter. Its effect was to undercut reliance on sanctions and to
bar exploration of the diplomatic track, on the grounds that
``aggressors cannot be rewarded''---in this unique case. The
effect, then, was to leave violence as the only policy option:
Iraq might succumb to the threat, or pay the price. Restricting
the options to these was no small achievement, given the
unprecedented character of the U.S. stance and its narrow base of
real support. The rhetorical stance assumed by the White House,
and accepted uncritically by its mainstream critics as well for
the most part, therefore merits some attention. Not a great deal
of attention is required, however, because the rhetorical stance
cannot withstand even a moment's scrutiny.

As a matter of logic, principles cannot be selectively upheld. As
a matter of fact, the U.S. is one of the major violators of the
principles now grandly proclaimed. We conclude at once, without
ambiguity or equivocation, that the U.S. does not uphold these
principles. We do not admire Saddam Hussein as a man of principle
because he condemns Israel's annexation of the Syrian Golan
Heights, nor do his laments over human rights abuses in the
occupied territories encourage our hopes for a kinder, gentler
world. The same reasoning applies when George Bush warns of
appeasing aggressors and clutches to his heart the Amnesty
International report on Iraqi atrocities (after August 2), but
not AI reports on El Salvador, Turkey, Indonesia, the Israeli
occupied territories, and a host of others. As for the ``wondrous
sea change'' at the U.N., it has little to do with the end of the
Cold War, or the improved behavior of the Russians and Third
World degenerates, whose ``shrill, anti-Western rhetoric''
commonly turns out to be a call for observance of international
law, a weak barrier against the depredations of the powerful.

The U.N. was able to respond to Iraq's aggression because---for
once---the U.S. happened to be opposed to criminal acts, as
distinct from its own invasion of Panama in the first post-Cold
War act of aggression, the Turkish invasion and virtual
annexation of northern Cyprus, Israel's invasion of Lebanon and
annexation of the Golan Heights (sanctions vetoed by the U.S.),
the Moroccan invasion of the Sahara (justified on grounds that
``one Kuwait in the Arab world is enough''; it is unjust for such
vast resources to be in the hands of a tiny population); and much
else. As for the unprecedented severity of the U.N. sanctions,
that was a direct result of intense U.S. pressures, cajolery, and
threats, and the considerations of self-interest that motivate
other powers, great and small.

Saddam Hussein is a murderous gangster, just as he was before
August 2, when he was an amiable friend and favored trading
partner. His invasion of Kuwait is another crime, comparable to
others, not as terrible as some; for example, the Indonesian
invasion and annexation of East Timor, which reached
near-genocidal levels thanks to diplomatic and material support
from the two righteous avengers of the Gulf. The truth was
revealed by U.N. Ambassador Daniel Patrick Moynihan in his
memoirs, describing his success in implementing State Department
directives to render the U.N. ``utterly ineffective in whatever
measures it undertook'' in response to Indonesia's aggression,
because ``the United States wished things to turn out as they
did, and worked to bring this about.'' It was stated with equal
frankness by Australian Foreign Minister Gareth Evans, explaining
his country's acquiescence in the forcible annexation of East
Timor: ``The world is a pretty unfair place, littered with
examples of acquisition by force. . . .'' Saddam Hussein's
aggression, in contrast, called forth Australian Prime Minister
Hawke's ringing declaration that ``big countries cannot invade
small neighbors and get away with it.'' If Libya were to join the
Butcher of Baghdad in exploiting Kuwait's oil riches, we would be
hearing calls to nuke the bastards. The reaction was slightly
different when Australia joined the Butcher of Jakarta a few
weeks ago in development of the rich petroleum resources of the
Timor sea.

U.N. peacekeeping efforts have regularly been frustrated by the
United States. The first post-Cold War U.N. session (1989--90)
was typical in this regard. Three Security Council resolutions
were vetoed, all by the U.S. Two condemned George Bush's
murderous invasion of Panama, the third condemned Israeli human
rights abuses; the U.S. vetoed a similar resolution the following
May. Britain and France joined the U.S. in blocking one of the
resolutions on Panama; the other, condemning U.S. violations of
diplomatic rights, was voted 13--1, Britain abstaining. The
General Assembly passed two resolutions calling on all states to
observe international law. The U.S. voted against both, alone
with Israel. The first condemned the continuing U.S. support for
the contras, the second, U.S. economic warfare against
Nicaragua---both declared ``unlawful'' by the World Court, but
irrelevantly, by the standards of the U.S. and its allies. A
resolution condemning the acquisition of territory by force
passed 151--3 (U.S., Israel, Dominica); this was yet another call
for a political settlement of the Arab-Israel conflict, which the
U.S. has blocked for 20 years.

The U.S. is far in the lead in the past 20 years in Security
Council vetoes. Britain is second, France a distant third, and
the USSR fourth. The situation is similar in the General
Assembly, where the U.S. regularly votes against resolutions on
aggression, international law, human rights abuses, disarmament,
and other relevant issues, often alone, or with a few client
states. That has been the pattern since the U.N. ceased to serve
as a virtual instrument of U.S. foreign policy. There is no
reason to expect that the Soviet collapse will induce the U.S.
and Britain to end their campaign against international law,
diplomacy, and collective security---a campaign that had little
to do with the Cold War, as a look at cases shows.  The record
offers no prospects for a bright new era.

The actual stance of the U.S. was made clear during the debate
over its invasion of Panama, when U.N. Ambassador Thomas
Pickering lectured the Security Council on the meaning of Article
51 of the Charter, which restricts the use of force to
self-defense against armed attack until the Council acts. These
words permit the U.S. to use ``armed force . . . to defend our
interests,'' Pickering explained to his backward students. The
same Article permits the U.S. to invade Panama to prevent its
``territory from being used as a base for smuggling drugs into
the United States,'' the Justice Department added. Washington has
even claimed the right of ``self-defense against future attack''
under Article 51 (justifying the terror bombing of Libya). In
brief, like other states, the U.S. will do what it chooses,
regarding law and principle as ideological weapons, to be used
when serviceable, to be discarded when they are a nuisance. We do
no one any favors by suppressing these truisms.

Washington's rejection of ``linkage'' in this particular case is
readily understandable when we dispense with illusion. The U.S.
opposes diplomatic resolution of each of the major issues;
therefore it opposes linking them. Simple enough.

There are two crucial regional issues, apart from Iraqi
withdrawal from Kuwait, a fact underscored by the Iraqi proposal
released by U.S. officials on January 2. The first is the
Arab-Israel conflict, the second, the matter of weapons of mass
destruction. On both issues, the U.S. has been consistently
opposed to the diplomatic track.

Consider first the Arab-Israel conflict. There has long been a
broad international consensus on a political settlement of this
conflict.  The U.S. and Israel have opposed it, and have been
isolated in this rejectionism, as the recent General Assembly
vote of 151--3 indicates.  The President likes to tell us how
James Baker has labored to advance the peace process, but he
remains silent about the terms of the famed Baker plan, with its
unwavering support for the Israeli government ``peace plan.'' Its
basic principles ban an ``additional Palestinian state'' (Jordan
already being one); bar any ``change in the status of Judea,
Samaria and Gaza other than in accordance with the basic
guidelines of the [Israeli] Government,'' which preclude any
meaningful Palestinian self-determination; reject negotiations
with the PLO, thus denying Palestinians the right to choose their
own political representation; and call for ``free elections''
under Israeli military rule with much of the Palestinian
leadership rotting in prison camps.  Unsurprisingly, the official
U.S. position is kept carefully under wraps, and diplomacy is not
a policy option.

Another of the President's favorite slogans is that ``it is the
world against Saddam Hussein.'' It is even more true that it is
the world against George Bush and his predecessors, as the recent
U.N. vote again illustrates. For this reason, the U.S. has
consistently opposed an international conference on the Middle
East. The excuse offered now is that we must not reward
aggression. But that cannot be the reason. The U.S. is commonly
quite happy to reward aggression, and it opposed an international
conference long before Iraq's invasion of Kuwait, and continued
to oppose a call for such a conference even when it was not
``linked'' to Iraq, as noted above. The real reason is that at an
international conference, the U.S. would be isolated. Such a
conference could only lead to pressures for a political
settlement that the U.S. rejects. Therefore, Washington opposes
an international conference. For the same reasons the U.S. has
vetoed Security Council resolutions calling for a political
settlement and blocked other diplomatic initiatives for the past
20 years.

The same is true with regard to weapons of mass destruction,
surely an issue that must be considered on a regional basis,
hence with the dread ``linkage,'' as in all similar cases. In
April 1990, Saddam Hussein, then still George Bush's friend and
ally, offered to destroy his chemical and biological weapons if
Israel agreed to destroy its non-conventional weapons---including
its nuclear weapons. The State Department welcomed Hussein's
offer to destroy his own arsenal, but rejected the link ``to
other issues or weapons systems.'' Note that these remain
unspecified. Acknowledgement of the existence of Israeli nuclear
weapons would raise the question why all U.S. aid to Israel is
not illegal under congressional legislation of the 1970s that
bars aid to any country engaged in clandestine nuclear weapons
development.

The story continues. In December, speaking at a joint press
conference with Secretary of State Baker, Soviet Foreign Minister
Eduard Shevardnadze proposed a nuclear-free zone in the Middle
East if Iraq withdraws from Kuwait. Baker gave ``qualified
support,'' the press observed, but ``carefully avoided using the
words `nuclear-free zone' ''---for the reason just noted. A week
later, Iraq offered to ``scrap chemical and mass destruction
weapons if Israel was also prepared to do so,'' Reuters reported.
The offer seems to have passed in silence here. Iraq's more
recent call for ``the banning of all weapons of mass destruction
in the region'' as part of a negotiated settlement of its
withdrawal from Kuwait has already been mentioned.

We gain further understanding of the high principles inspiring
the U.S. and its British partner when we look at the forces
assembled, however ambiguously, under their flag. It has been
hard to overlook the fact that there is little to distinguish
Saddam Hussein from Syria's Hafez el-Assad, apart from current
service to U.S. needs; in fact, prior to August 2 their rankings
were often reversed within the doctrinal system. An inconvenient
Amnesty International release of November 2 reported that Saudi
security forces tortured and abused hundreds of Yemeni ``guest
workers,'' also expelling 750,000 of them, ``for no apparent
reason other than their nationality or their suspected opposition
to the Saudi Arabian government's position in the gulf crisis.''
Apparently George Bush, though an avid reader of AI reports (so
we are told), somehow missed this one. The press also looked the
other way, though in the case of Arab states, there is no
shortage of commentators to denounce their evil nature.

It was also necessary to overlook Turkey's abysmal human rights
record, not to speak of its conquest and virtual annexation of
northern Cyprus, with thousands of casualties and hundreds of
thousands of refugees after an orgy of killing, torture, rape and
pillage to extirpate the last remnants of Greek culture back to
classical antiquity. Nonetheless, few winced when George Bush
praised Turkey for serving ``as a protector of peace'' as it
joined those who ``stand up for civilized values around the
world,'' opposing Saddam Hussein.

The alliance with Turkey also required some fancy footwork
because of the question of the Kurds in northern Iraq. It is
difficult not to notice that Iraqi forces facing U.S. troops
would be severely weakened if the U.S. were to support a Kurdish
rebellion. Washington rejected this option, presumably out of
concern that a Kurdish rebellion in Iraq might spread to Eastern
Turkey, where the huge Kurdish population (subjected to torture
and other severe punishments for the crime of speaking or writing
Kurdish or otherwise identifying themselves as Kurds) suffer
brutal oppression. In a rare notice of the issue in the press,
the Wall Street Journal observed that ``the West fears that
pressing the `Kurdish question' with Turkey, Syria and Iran . . .
could weaken the anti-Iraq alliance.'' The report adds that ``the
U.S. administration pointedly refused to meet with an Iraqi
Kurdish leader who visited Washington in August'' to ask for
support, and that ``Kurds say Ankara is using the Gulf crisis and
Turkey's resulting popularity in the West as cover for a
crackdown''---while Western commentary now laments Iraq's vicious
treatment of the Kurds, whose grim fate has been cynically
exploited by the West for many years.  Other reports confirm new
population transfers in the regions near the Iraqi border, with
several hundred villages either partially or totally evacuated,
though increased press censorship---the most severe since 1925,
according to an informed Turkish source---leaves the matter
obscure.

The avoidance of this topic is particularly remarkable because of
its relevance to the sole issue that is supposed to concern us,
in accord with our traditional values: saving American lives.
Evidently, this concern was outweighed by the higher priority of
protecting Turkey's right to repress its Kurdish population.

Proceeding through the list, the plea that Washington is inspired
by any wisp of principle can hardly be sustained. Inquiry will
reveal nothing beyond the usual reasons of state.

It is child's play to demonstrate that Saddam Hussein is a major
criminal, who would be subjected to the judgment of Nuremberg in
a just world. Many others would stand beside him before the bar
of justice, among them many of his most passionate accusers, some
well within the reach of U.S. law enforcement. The arguments
advanced to justify the bombing of Baghdad might be taken
seriously if they were put forth by people who had also been
calling eloquently for the bombing of Jakarta, Ankara, Tel Aviv,
Cape Town, and many other capitals, not excluding Washington.

Returning to the two questions raised at the outset, the answer
to the first is straightforward: the response to Saddam Hussein's
aggression is unprecedented because he stepped on the wrong toes.
The U.S. is upholding no high principle in the Gulf. Nor is any
other state.

Let's also be clear about a further point. Since the
justifications for war are based on an appeal to principle that
is clearly fraudulent, it follows that no reason at all has been
given for going to war. None whatsover. Doubtless there are
reasons, but not the ones that have been offered, because these
plainly cannot be taken seriously.


The Guardians of the Gulf

Let us turn now to the second question raised: Why have the U.S.
and Britain insisted on the threat or use of force to attain the
ends generally shared, instead of sanctions and diplomacy? Why do
we find two major First World military forces in the Gulf, the
U.S. and Britain, while other powers declined to give more than
token support---even financial? Furthermore, even after
extensive U.S. pressures, the Security Council could not be moved
beyond an ambiguous resolution authorizing ``all necessary
means'' to secure Iraqi withdrawal: diplomacy, sanctions, or
military action by those intent on undertaking it. As noted by
David Scheffer, senior associate at the Carnegie Endowment for
International Peace, the resolution ``neither requests nor
commands the use of military force'' and ``avoids the terminology
of war and such explicit terms as `armed force' or `military
measures'.'' When the history of this period emerges, if it ever
does, it may well turn out that, in reality, the U.N. record did
not deviate much from the standard pattern of attempts at
peacekeeping frustrated by U.S. veto; in this case, attempts to
pursue the course of sanctions and diplomacy, blocked by U.S.
threats and pressures, leading the U.N. in effect to wash its
hands of the matter, never pursuing the procedures by which the
Security Council may make ``plans for the application of armed
force,'' according to the Charter.

At this point, one can only speculate about the reasons for the
U.S.-British insistence on force, but there are relevant factors,
including the historical background and the nature of the
emerging world order.

The U.S. and U.K. largely established the post-war settlement in
the region. A principle guiding U.S. policy has been that the
incomparable energy resources of the Gulf region, and the
enormous profits reaped, must remain under the effective control
of the U.S., its corporations, and dependable allies and clients.
Britain viewed matters in a similar light. In the early post-war
years, there was considerable conflict between the U.S. and
Britain over the terms of the imperial settlement, resolved by
the 1950s within the global order dominated by the United States.

Iraq challenged Anglo-American privilege in 1958, when a
nationalist military coup overthrew a dependent regime. There is,
of course, an earlier history, including British terror bombing
of civilians and the request of the RAF Middle East command for
authorization to use chemical weapons ``against recalcitrant
Arabs as experiment.'' The request was granted by the Secretary
of State at the War office, who was ``strongly in favour'' of
``using poisoned gas against uncivilised tribes'' (Winston
Churchill)---another illustration of the ``universal values''
that animate our traditions.

In his history of the oil industry, Christopher Rand describes
the 1958 coup as ``America's biggest setback in the region since
the war,'' ``a shocking experience for the United States'' that
``undoubtedly provok[ed] an agonizing reappraisal of our nation's
entire approach to the Persian Gulf.'' Recently released British
and American documents help flesh out earlier surmises.

Kuwait was a particular concern. The ``new Hitler'' of the day
was the secular nationalist Gamal Abdel Nasser of Egypt, and it
was feared that his pan-Arab nationalism might spread to Iraq,
Kuwait, and beyond. One reaction to the 1958 coup was a U.S.
Marine landing in Lebanon to prop up the regime, and apparent
authorization of use of nuclear weapons by President Eisenhower
``to prevent any unfriendly forces from moving into Kuwait'' (in
his words). Britain considered several options for Kuwait, the
least harsh being a grant of nominal independence, but with
acceptance of ``the need, if things go wrong, ruthlessly to
intervene, whoever it is has caused the trouble'' (Foreign
Secretary Selwyn Lloyd). Lloyd stressed ``the complete United
States solidarity with us over the Gulf,'' including the need to
``take firm action to maintain our position in Kuwait'' and the
``similar resolution'' of the U.S. ``in relations to the Aramco
oilfields'' in Saudi Arabia; the Americans ``agree that at all
costs these oilfields [in Kuwait, Saudi Arabia, Bahrain and
Qatar] must be kept in Western hands.'' Six months before the
Iraqi coup, Lloyd summarized the major concerns, including free
access to Gulf oil production ``on favourable terms and for
sterling,'' and ``suitable arrangements for the investment of the
surplus revenues of Kuwait,'' a matter of no little significance.

Declassified U.S. documents outline British goals in similar
terms: ``the U.K. asserts that its financial stability would be
seriously threatened if the petroleum from Kuwait and the Persian
Gulf area were not available to the U.K. on reasonable terms, if
the U.K. were deprived of the large investments made by that area
in the U.K. and if sterling were deprived of the support provided
by Persian Gulf oil.''  These British needs, and the fact that
``An assured source of oil is essential to the continued economic
viability of Western Europe,'' provide some reason for the U.S.
``to support, or if necessary assist, the British in using force
to retain control of Kuwait and the Persian Gulf.'' In November
1958, the National Security Council recommended that the U.S.
``Be prepared to use force, but only as a last resort, either
alone or in support of the United Kingdom,'' if these interests
are threatened. In January, the National Security Council had
advised that Israel might provide a barrier to Arab nationalism,
articulating the basis for one element of the system of control
over the Middle East developed in the years that followed.

The concern that Gulf oil and riches be available to support the
ailing British economy was extended by the early 1970s to the
U.S. economy, which was visibly declining relative to Japan and
German-led Europe. Furthermore, control over oil serves as a
means to influence these rivals/allies, a fact noted in the
internal record in the early post-war years. One of the major
architects of the New World Order of that day, George Kennan,
advised that Japan should be helped to reindustrialize within the
U.S.-dominated global framework, but that the U.S. should keep
control of its energy system, which would give the U.S. ``veto
power'' if some time in the distant future, Japan might get out
of hand. That ``veto power'' is not as strong today, with the
decline of U.S. hegemony; but influence over oil production,
prices, and access is still not a negligeable factor in world
affairs. And as the U.S. and Britain lose their former economic
dominance, privileged access to the rich profits of Gulf oil
production is a matter of serious concern.

Capital flow from Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, and the other Gulf
principalities to the U.S. and Britain has provided significant
support for their economies, corporations, and financial
institutions.  These are among the reasons why the U.S. and
Britain have often not been averse to increases in oil price. The
issues are too intricate to explore here, but these factors
surely remain operative. It comes as no great surprise that the
two states that established the imperial settlement and have been
its main beneficiaries and guarantors are now girding for war in
the Gulf, while others keep their distance.

Also worth noting is a division in the Arab world. By and large,
support for the U.S. military initiative tends to decline as the
influence of the public increases. Commentators have occasionally
noted that support for the U.S. military initiative was least in
the governments that had ``nascent democratic movements'':
Jordan, Algeria, Yemen, and Tunisia (Judith Miller, New York
Times). Administration analysts expressed concern that if U.S.
troops were kept in place too long, the ``Islamic religious
periods'' (the Hajj and Ramadan) would allow more expression of
popular feelings and ``could set off protests and perhaps coups''
that ``could topple western-oriented governments in the region
and cut the diplomatic ground out from under US-led troops facing
Iraq'' (Peter Gosselin, Boston Globe). Similar concerns are
regularly voiced about the home front. The standard conclusion is
that the U.S. must therefore strike fast. Fear of the public is a
normal feature of statecraft, as familiar as it is instructive.


The New World Order

Secretary Baker's comments on the new ``era full of promise''
raise another issue relevant to explanation of the U.S.-U.K.
stance. The New World Order that has become a virtual cliche
since August is real enough, though the lovely phrases about
peace and justice are another matter.

Basic elements of the New World Order were coming into focus 20
years ago, with the emergence of a ``tripolar world'' as economic
power diffused within U.S. domains. The U.S. remains the dominant
military power, but its economic superiority, though still
manifest, has declined, and may well decline further as the costs
of Reagan's party for the rich fall due. The collapse of Soviet
tyranny adds several new dimensions. First, new pretexts are
needed for Third World intervention, a serious challenge for the
educated classes. Second, there are now prospects for the ``Latin
Americanization'' of much of the former Soviet empire, that is,
for its reversion to a quasi-colonial status, providing
resources, cheap labor, markets, investment opportunities, and
other standard Third World amenities. But the U.S. and Britain
are not in the lead in this endeavor. A third important
consequence is that the U.S is more free than before to use
force, the Soviet deterrent having disappeared. That may well
increase the temptation for Washington to transfer problems to
the arena of forceful confrontation. The United States intends to
maintain its near monopoly of force, with no likely contestant
for that role. One effect will be exacerbation of domestic
economic difficulties; another, a renewed temptation to ``go it
alone'' in relying on the threat of force rather than diplomacy,
generally regarded as an annoying encumbrance.

These factors too help to clarify the varied reactions to the
Gulf crisis. War is dangerous; defusing the crisis without a
demonstration of the efficacy of force is also an unwelcome
outcome for Washington.  As for the costs, plainly it would be
advantageous for them to be shared, but not at the price of
sacrificing the role of lone enforcer.  These conflicting
concerns led to a sharp elite split over the tactical choice
between the threat of force and reliance on sanctions, with the
Administration holding to the former course.

In the New World Order, the Third World domains must still be
controlled, sometimes by force. This task has been the
responsibility of the United States, but with its relative
economic decline, the burden becomes harder to shoulder. One
reaction is that the U.S. must persist in its historic task,
while others pay the bills. Deputy Secretary of State Lawrence
Eagleburger explained that the emerging New World Order will be
based on ``a kind of new invention in the practice of
diplomacy'': others will finance U.S. intervention to keep order.
In the London Financial Times, a respected commentator on
international economic affairs described the Gulf crisis as a
``watershed event in US international relations,'' which will be
seen in history as having ``turned the US military into an
internationally financed public good.'' In the 1990s, he
continues, ``there is no realistic alternative [to] the US
military assuming a more explicitly mercenary role than it has
played in the past'' (David Hale, FT, Nov. 21).

The financial editor of a leading U.S. conservative daily puts
the point less delicately: we must exploit our ``virtual monopoly
in the security market . . . as a lever to gain funds and
economic concessions'' from Germany and Japan (William Neikirk,
Chicago Tribune, Sept. 9).  The U.S. has ``cornered the West's
security market'' and will therefore be ``the world's
rent-a-cops''; the phrase ``rent-a-thug'' might be more accurate,
if less appealing. Some will call us ``Hessians,'' he continues,
but ``that's a terribly demeaning phrase for a proud,
well-trained, well-financed and well-respected military''; and
whatever anyone may say, ``we should be able to pound our fists
on a few desks'' in Japan and Europe, and ``extract a fair price
for our considerable services,'' demanding that our rivals ``buy
our bonds at cheap rates, or keep the dollar propped up, or
better yet, pay cash directly into our Treasury.'' ``We could
change this role'' of enforcer, he concludes, ``but with it would
go much of our control over the world economic system.''

The British right has added its special touch as well. The editor
of the London Sunday Telegraph writes that the ``new job'' for
``the post-Cold War world'' is ``to help build and sustain a
world order stable enough to allow the advanced economies of the
world to function without constant interruption and threat from
the Third World,'' a task that will require ``instant
intervention from the advanced nations'' and perhaps even
``pre-emptive action.'' Britain is ``no match for Germany and
Japan when it comes to wealth creation; or even for France and
Italy. But when it comes to shouldering world responsibilities we
are more than a match.'' England will thus join the U.S., with
its similar configuration of strengths and weaknesses, in
``rising to this challenge.'' The offer is welcomed by American
neoconservatives, happy to have support in the mercenary role.

That role is also welcomed by the local administrators of Gulf
riches.  A high Gulf official quoted in the Wall Street Journal
sees no reason for his son to ``die for Kuwait.'' ``We have our
white slaves from America to do that,'' he explains with a
``chuckle''---not having looked too closely at the skin color of
his mercenaries, and forgetting momentarily that those who have
the guns will call the shots, if he forgets his responsibilities.

The ``new job'' to which the editor of the Sunday Telegraph
refers is actually a very old one, though it needs a new guise.
George Bush has been much criticized for his failures as a
``communicator,'' unable to articulate the reasons (necessarily
noble) for the attack on Panama and the insistence on force in
the Gulf. But the criticism is unfair.  The reflex appeal to
``defense against the Russians'' had lost its last shreds of
plausibility, and new constructions are not so simple to devise.

This vision of the future helps illuminate Washington's reaction
to the Gulf crisis. It implies that the U.S. must continue to
enforce obedience (called ``order'' or ``stability'' in the
doctrinal system), with the support of other industrial powers.
Riches funnelled by the oil-producing monarchies will help prop
up the troubled economies of the guardians of order. To be sure,
force is only a last resort. It is more cost-effective to use the
IMF than the Marines or the CIA if possible; but it is not always
possible.

Parallel domestic developments add another dimension to the
picture.  Studies by the U.S. Labor Department and others predict
serious shortages of skilled labor (everything from scientists
and managers to technicians and typists) as the educational
system deteriorates, part of the collapse of infrastructure
accelerated by Reaganite social and economic policies. The
tendency may be mitigated by modification of immigration laws to
encourage a brain drain, but that is not likely to prove
adequate. The predicted result is that the cost of skilled labor
will rise and transnational corporations will transfer research,
product development and design, marketing, and other such
operations elsewhere. For the growing underclass, opportunities
will still be available as Hessians. It takes little imagination
to picture the consequences if such expectations---not
inevitable, but also not unrealistic---are indeed realized.

For the traditional victims, the New World Order is not likely to
be an improvement on the old, and the prospects for citizens of
the mercenary states are also less than attractive, if they
permit this scenario to unfold.

Let's return finally to the initial questions raised. Choice of
policy is determined by the goals that are sought. If the goal
had been to secure Iraq's withdrawal from Kuwait, settle regional
issues, and move towards a more decent world, then Washington
would have followed the peaceful means prescribed by
international law: sanctions and diplomacy. If the goal is to
firm up the mercenary-enforcer role and establish the rule of
force, then the Administration policy of narrowing the options to
capitulation or war has a certain chilling logic.