All In:  The Education of General David Petraeus.  By Paula Broadwell with Vernon Loeb. The Penguin Press, 2012, 394pp. $29.99.

Writing a first book is challenging in its own right, much less doing so as events unfold.  In All In, The Education of General David Petraeus, Paula Broadwell chose to add a third hurdle:  writing the story of an individual, General David H. Petraeus, who has not only accomplished much in a high profile arena, but whose career has not yet completely run its course.  In her 400 page work, based on her in-progress doctoral dissertation on the development of General Petraeus’ career, Broadwell has delivered a solid treatment of the General’s on-the-ground experiences in what was to become his final mission in uniform – command of the NATO International Security Assistance Force (ISAF) in Afghanistan from July 2010 until July 2011. For many reasons, All In will be one of the must-reads for any serious student of military affairs and international security issues.

All In is not a comprehensive biography of General, now Director, Petraeus, nor is it a comprehensive history of the war in Afghanistan.  Those who seek either will come away disappointed.  Nor is All In the cocktail party circuit “tell-all.” Indeed, Broadwell does a proper job in relaying the personal stories of the key players without betraying confidences or gossiping. In doing so, she does a valuable service to future writers by capturing insights that otherwise would be lost to history with the passage of time.  While writing All In, Broadwell benefitted greatly from the labors of veteran journalist Vernon Loeb, whom she credits on the cover.  The voice, however, is unmistakably that of Ms. Broadwell, and despite a few areas where editors could have reduced repetition and smoothed out transitions, All In is eminently readable, engaging, and will provide an excellent bridge for future scholarly treatments and more detailed assessments of various aspects of Petraeus’ career (e.g. Iraq) and the still-ongoing war in Afghanistan.

Broadwell tells the story of how General Petraeus became, as the late Richard Holbrooke candidly told a small group of civilians shortly before his death, “the greatest operational commander of our time.”  All In is the story of those who shaped Petraeus’ thinking as a young officer and a story of a General whom the nation called to be the face of two unpopular wars – Iraq in the beginning of 2007 and Afghanistan in the summer of 2010.   Likewise, this is the story of the challenges and successes that some of Petraeus’ protégé’s have faced during that latter conflict. Specifically, Broadwell follows three of the 101^st Airborne Division’s Battalion Commanders and traces the outlines of military operations in 2010 and 2011 in Afghanistan, particularly those in Kandahar and Helmand.  Broadwell chronicles the often vicious fighting against Taliban insurgents and her blow by blow description of battles in the Arghandab bring the reader into the situation as experienced by the commanders on the ground. Broadwell also chronicles the exploits of two members of the Counterinsurgency Advisory and Assistance Team (CAAT) and brings the reader into the struggle to prod the U.S. military to overcome its endemic aversion to small wars and insurgencies.  While she does not address head-on the issue of whether “too much” has been attempted in Afghanistan as a matter of policy, her telling of the story does remind the reader not all in uniform were “true believers” in the value of COIN and that, indeed, some were simply dismissive of any complex and nuanced notions of conflict.

Broadwell’s style may remind readers of James Kittfield’s Prodigal Soldiers (1995) – a story of U.S. military leaders who sprang from the experience of the Vietnam War. Broadwell alternates between Petraeus’ command in Afghanistan and the career that shaped him prior to the challenges of Iraq and Afghanistan. She describes his relatively unassuming childhood where Petraeus’ father taught him that results and not excuses are what matter.  She also chronicles his experiences as a junior officer and field grade leader, and the story is fascinating enough that the reader is left wanting more about what truly shaped and drove a young David Petraeus into such a tenacious and effective leader.  Clearly, one of Petraeus key strengths as a leader was not only finding mentors, but also in seeking out junior officers (and civilians) to mentor himself and providing them opportunities to grow into even stronger leaders.  Additionally, All In gives the reader an understanding of the importance Petreaus placed on building the right team as well as the challenge of ensuring that these teams did not tell him simply what they thought he wanted to hear.

Broadwell uses her study to demonstrate how Petraeus’ experiences – not simply in Iraq, but more importantly over a lifetime of assignments around the world shaped his analytical and decisonmaking processes in Afghanistan.  Perhaps the most important take away during his career was that Petraeus felt that the enemy should not be allowed to define the rules of the fight:  “when the enemy defined their rules, we just changed ours,” a young Lieutenant Colonel Petraeus explained to one of his subordinates during training exercises. Broadwell deliberately focuses much more on the operational nature of his command in Afghanistan and his interaction with his former protégé’s than with Petraeus’ dealings with peers, subordinate general and flag officers, senior civilian officials, and the Afghan military and civilian leadership.

While there is some discussion of non-U.S. NATO forces, All In focuses on the U.S. military, almost exclusively the U.S. Army.  Broadwell’s measurement of his handling of sensitive issues such as air and ground rules of engagement, civilian casualties, and the Afghan Local Police program illustrate that Petraeus practiced what he preached in terms of understanding that “people are the center of gravity,” whether those under your own command or those you seek to protect from the insurgents.  While it is understandable that there is not more of a discussion of General Petraeus’ interactions with often difficult Afghan senior officials and the complexities of Alliance politics, this does mean that the reader misses seeing how truly skilled Petraeus was as not only a soldier, but, in perhaps a way not seen since Eisenhower or Marshall, as a diplomat.  Likewise, there is only scant discussion of the challenges Petraeus faced in dealing with a dysfunctional U.S. Embassy that had a critical role to play in the stabilization and development dimension of the COIN campaign.

In writing All In, Broadwell had tremendous access not only to Petraeus, but to those who were working or had worked with him. She interviewed over 150 individuals to include not just the General’s closest advisors, but former mentors and subordinates. The challenge Broadwell faced, of course, was not just filtering the subjectivity of those she interviewed, but to seek objectivity in her own analysis.  The pride she has in her mentor/subject, his protégés, and her belief in the mission in Afghanistan most certainly shines through. While some will choose to disagree, this does not detract at all from the quality of the book.  In many ways it lets the reader understand how many of those who have served in the U.S. military feel about serving under such a uniquely capable set of military leaders such as Petreaus, McChrystal, Mattis, Stavridis, McRaven, and Rodriguez.

No doubt, for Ms. Broadwell, it was hard not to be proud of the camaraderie, professionalism, and willingness to make the ultimate sacrifice that she witnessed while conducting her interviews.  In the end, the strength of this book indeed lays in both Broadwell’s ability to empathize with her subject matter and that her access uniquely gave her the ability to obtain the views of participants as events happened or shortly thereafter when the emotion was often still raw.  Indeed, for this alone, All In will stand the test of time and prove invaluable to future scholars and students of history.

Mark R. Jacobson is a Senior Transatlantic Fellow at the German Marshall Fund. He served as the Deputy NATO Senior Civilian Representative and an advisor both Generals David Petraeus and Stanley McChrystal from 2009-2011.

BRUSSELS—Full details of the Obama administration’s new look in defense spending, force posture, and strategy are not yet out. But enough has been revealed  to venture some thoughts on the logic of the new approach and the longer-term implications for the United States and transatlantic partners.

The shift to a “one war, spoil and manage” strategy contrasts sharply with a decade of costly and inconclusive engagement in irregular warfare in Afghanistan and Iraq. Enormous efforts were undertaken to adapt the U.S. way of war and to focus it on counterterrorism and counterinsurgency, with the unfortunate effect of eroding the United States’ capacity to address more serious and potentially more demanding long-term challenges, above all in Asia. Today, much of the U.S. strategic community has come to believe that a disproportionate amount of effort has been devoted to meeting nonexistential threats to the national interest and international security. A strategy re-emphasizing core risks, and conventional rather than irregular warfare, simply makes sense against a backdrop of stark resource constraints.

The need to meet serious conventional contingencies with smaller ground forces could spell a renaissance in nuclear strategy. There are precedents for this in the Cold War experience, when the expense and difficulty of forward defense in Europe compelled a reliance on nuclear forces and nuclear deterrence to fill the gap at reasonable cost. Of course, we are unlikely to see a return to a doctrine of massive retaliation to meet security challenges in Asia, a more competitive relationship with Russia, or an aggressive Iran. But the mix of conventional and nuclear deterrence in U.S. strategy could well change as forces are realigned and forward-deployed forces, in particular, become more exposed to ballistic missile attack, perhaps nuclear-armed. Under these conditions, planners may be tempted to reinforce the nuclear dimension. Not quite a trip-wire strategy, but perhaps a bit closer than many U.S. allies would prefer.

Many will be tempted to interpret the Obama administration’s new strategy as a shift away from European defense—and perhaps more important, European defense partnerships—in the face of more pressing challenges in Asia. This interpretation is too dramatic. In reality, the shift away from European defense per se has been underway for two decades. This is not just a question of land forces. The U.S. Sixth Fleet has not kept an aircraft carrier battle group in the Mediterranean for many years. Residual U.S. forces in and around Europe are kept there to enable the United States to meet contingencies elsewhere, across the Mediterranean, the Black Sea, and the Middle East. Maintaining a capacity to reinforce Europe’s crisis response capabilities on the European periphery, as in Libya, will continue to depend, above all, on mainly bilateral base access and over-flight arrangements. If anything, transatlantic partners will now have an even greater stake in solidifying these strategic ties. The locus of strategic risk may be shifting; the logic of cooperation endures.

Dr. Ian O. Lesser is the Executive Director of the German Marshall Fund’s Transatlantic Center in Brussels.

BERLIN — When President Barack Obama unveiled a new national defense strategy last week, which confirmed the United States’ intent to play a sustained role in shaping a rising Asia, he noted that “the tide of war is receding.” This observation will have done little to reassure a skeptical Beijing that the strategy is aimed at managing, as opposed to containing, the rise of China. Beijing will note with ire its bracketing, in one part of the strategic review, with Iran: a country with whom the United States has had no diplomatic relations for three decades and with whom the risk of conflict (even if by proxy), remains all too real. Nor will it be pleased by the U.S. commitment to “invest in a long-term strategic partnership with India,” a country whose potential Beijing would prefer to see checked. Seen from Beijing, the administration’s repeated assurances that the United States does not view China as an adversary will be even harder to believe now.

Nevertheless, as Beijing waits to discover the full details of the U.S. realignment and to calibrate its reaction accordingly, a few ironies are already clear. Firstly, despite the fanfare with which the announcement was made, it should be no surprise that Washington plans to pay close attention to Asia. In fact, the realignment reinforces an underlying trend of increased U.S. engagement with the Asia-Pacific region, which has been quietly gathering momentum since the 1990s. The wars that followed the 9/11 attacks may have constrained some of this focus, but the ultimate direction of U.S. defense policy has been clear for a while. Likewise, the intention to cultivate India as a long-term strategic partner has roots stretching back across administrations long before Obama’s tenure.

Secondly, the perception of increasingly “assertive” behavior by China in recent years has played its part in crystallizing a stronger U.S. response. The danger is that this in turn bolsters the position of hard-liners in Beijing, including elements of the military, thereby further increasing their influence in foreign and security policymaking. Thirdly, China’s bracketing with Iran as nations pursuing asymmetric means to counter U.S. power projection capabilities is likely to encourage Beijing to mistakenly identify common cause with Tehran. Indeed, a Global Times editorial the day after Obama’s announcement argued, “The U.S. strategic adjustment highlights Iran’s importance to China. Iran’s existence and its stance form a strong check against the U.S.” And finally, as Washington complains about the pursuit of these asymmetric measures, its increased presence in the region is likely to make such activities even more attractive. China will continue to pour resources into access denial, focus on the development of longer-range capabilities, and continue their advances in electronic and cyber warfare.

Yet, for the United States to retain its primacy in Asia whilst ensuring the rise of China within a rules-based international environment, there is no alternative other than pouring more resources into Asia. Ultimately, anyone judging China’s strategic intentions purely by observing the nature of its military build-up would not likely be persuaded by Beijing’s commitment to rise peacefully. For the many U.S. allies and partners in Asia struggling to manage the security implications of their burgeoning trade relations with China, this demonstration of U.S. commitment to the region provides significant reassurance. At the same time, the strategy will also generate tensions with U.S. partners in Asia. More will be demanded of them, which will have financial implications and might require deft political handling domestically. Equally, as South Korea’s Chosun Ilbo has been quick to point out, the United States’ decreased appetite for boots on the ground does not sit easily with a military strategy that presently envisions the deployment of 690,000 American soldiers on the Korean Peninsula in the event of war.

In the struggle to manage the consequences of China’s rise, U.S. military might and strategy will be crucial, but these will not be the only tools required. While a more coherent diplomatic strategy for Asia appears to be emerging with, for example, U.S. participation in the East Asian Summit, U.S. trade policy in Asia remains woefully underdeveloped, the administration’s recent push on the Trans-Pacific Partnership notwithstanding. Ultimately, as intriguing as the consequences of this strategy may be for the broader region, for the moment at least, the Pentagon review remains just a paper. Even once key details are made clear, a lot can happen on the road between intent and reality.

Sarah Raine is a Non-Resident Transatlantic Fellow with the Asia Program of the German Marshall Fund of the United States in Berlin

PARIS—The Obama administration’s new defense strategy should come as no surprise to observers in France and across Europe. The question of rebalancing American military involvement between Europe and the Asia-Pacific has been a recurring theme of transatlantic relations and of U.S. policy debates since at least the 1950s. In large part, it reflects the historical evolution of U.S. perceptions of the transatlantic relationship, from what the United States should do for Europe to what it should do with Europe. In the context of economic austerity, this evolution assumes an even more urgent quality.

There are certainly legitimate reasons for concern. The stationing of U.S. troops in Europe is not only a key component of deterring potential aggression against U.S. allies, it also significantly enhances its power projection capabilities by locating U.S. forces closer to hotspots in the Middle East, North Africa, and Europe’s eastern periphery. A recessed U.S. posture in Europe will have direct implications for the military’s ability to respond to future conflicts or strategic surprises. In the lead-up to intervening in Libya, confusion related to the United States’ role illustrated the increasing and dangerous ambiguity that underscores U.S.-European strategic relations. Whereas the United States “transferred” the command and control of the Libya mission to its European allies, Europeans had been counting on U.S. leadership to conduct the military operations.

At the same time, closer strategic cooperation between the United States and Europe has become even more vital in an unpredictable environment being transformed by the emergence of new powers and threats. In Obama’s words, U.S. rebalancing should “create new opportunities for burden-sharing.” Indeed, the key questions induced by an increasingly Asia-oriented U.S. foreign policy do not concern the United States’ military posture in Europe itself, but rather whether Europe is ready to take responsibility for hard security matters in and around Europe, and across the world. France’s chief of the defense staff, Admiral Edouard Guillaud, recently noted that while “Europe is disarming, the world is rearming,” a trend that could impact Europe’s future in terms of its power projection and influence in world politics.

Burden sharing need not entail a geographical division of labor between Americans and Europeans, whereby the United States focuses on Asia and the Middle East, while Europeans concentrate on their near and Mediterranean neighborhoods. Under certain circumstances, the United States will need European support, as in Afghanistan or sub-Saharan Africa. In others, the EU will need U.S. support and unique capabilities, as in Libya. Defining clear modalities of transatlantic cooperation would help avoid future Libya-like scenarios.

It is as yet unclear whether Europe is ready for all this. While the United States would wish for Europe to develop a more coherent military capacity, Europe is actually evolving in the opposite direction. At the present juncture, virtually no European country has the will or the means to assume these responsibilities. European decision-makers may have welcomed Obama’s commitment to draw to a close the perceived over-militarization of the post-9/11 era, but the Libyan campaign showed that hard power still matters in the 21^st century. Ad hoc coalitions are a short-term solution, Franco-British defense cooperation suffers from ideological divergences, and Germany is occupied dealing with the Euro crisis. NATO can therefore be expected to continue to enhance interoperability and coalition building, rather than acting as the core transatlantic security alliance.

What may appear a pragmatic and natural shift in U.S. geostrategic priorities to Asia and the Middle East means fewer resources for the traditional transatlantic alliance. But this does not entail a post-American Europe or less U.S. interest in the transatlantic partnership. On the contrary, the Obama administration has, in a way, renewed its defense commitments to Europe and acknowledged the continuing strategic importance of Europe in terms of ongoing security challenges and unresolved conflicts.

Alexandra de Hoop Scheffer is Director of the German Marshall Fund’s Paris office.

This past week, the Obama Administration announced its intention to nominate Rick Barton as the nation’s first ever Assistant Secretary of State for Conflict and Stabilization Operations.  The announcement marks Washington’s latest run at creating a serious civilian “surge capacity” for managing instability and conflict in fragile states.

Rick Barton, if the Senate chooses to confirm him, would bring impeccable credentials to the job.  Former U.S. Representative to the UN’s Economic and Social Council, first Director of the highly regarded Office of Transition Initiatives at the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID), former UN Deputy High Commissioner for Refugees, and Senior Advisor at the Center for Strategic and International Studies, Ambassador Barton appears to have spent his life preparing for this job.  The question is whether the U.S. government, after repeated failures to build a comprehensive civilian crisis management entity, will allow him to do the job.

Regrettably, for much of the past several decades, the U.S. government’s ability to generate a credible civilian surge in crisis situations has been a bit of a farce.  In an almost unbelievable period of sustained underperformance since 2004, Washington – both the last Administration and this one; both the State Department and USAID; aided and abetted by both houses of Congress – have systematically undercut attempts to create a serious surge capacity on the civilian side of the U.S. government.  The competent civilian reconstruction partner that the U.S. Department of Defense (DoD) and coalition fighting forces have been requesting for a decade remains – perhaps to be overly generous – a “work in progress.”

A quick review of how we got to this point:  The U.S. government learned quickly in the wake of the Afghanistan and Iraq interventions that it lacked the ability to locate and dispatch adequate numbers of competent, highly trained, language proficient reconstruction specialists from State and USAID to help rebuild after coalition forces had initially defeated the opposition.  This is not surprising given that State and USAID together have less than 1 percent – yes, that’s one percent — of DoD’s uniformed and civilian personnel levels.  You will recall the numerous exposes about civilians with only shreds of international experience appearing in Baghdad to “advise” the post-Saddam Hussein Iraqi government in the immediate aftermath of Baghdad’s fall.

In 2004, the Bush Administration – in what some might consider a rare moment of introspection – recognized the gap in U.S. civilian capacity, and pushed through the National Security Council a new concept:  the Coordinator for Reconstruction and Stabilization (CRS) at the State Department.  This new entity, located in the Secretary’s front office to ensure high impact and visibility, was to serve as the centerpiece of a reinvigorated “civilian surge” capacity, recruiting a “Civilian Response Corps” of stand-by reconstruction experts, ready to deploy on short notice, from across all federal departments.  CRS was also to serve as a focal point for enhanced partnership with multi-lateral and bilateral partners, as a number of TransAtlantic governments were building similar conflict management units.  Befitting the importance of the concept, Secretary Clinton once referred to this new U.S. capability as “an army of peace-builders.”

In reality, it is not much of an “army.”  After seven years, the number of full-time Civilian Response Corps members remains under 200 – not exactly the force envisaged in 2004; not the force likely to encourage military colleagues; and certainly not the kind of force that will have serious impact in one or more major conflict and stabilization crises.

Not only is the civilian surge “army” tiny, it basically doesn’t have any bullets.  Despite repeated requests by both the Bush and Obama Administrations for a modest contingency fund to allow the Civilian Response Corps to act quickly in a crisis, the Congress has not appropriated one penny of operational funding to CRS.  With a few notable successes – observer teams in South Sudan, for example – actual deployments by the Civilian Response Corps have been minimal, mostly consisting of two-week “assessment missions” to U.S. embassies in relatively peaceful countries.  Despite Secretary Clinton’s words of praise for her “army,” she chose not to deploy it to Haiti, despite a major crisis just miles from America’s shore.

U.S. Ambassadors, by and large, have viewed this new organization as a bureaucratic threat, rather than as an asset.  USAID, with its own history of crisis response, feels slighted, as well, by CRS, and has offered only grudging support.  Last year, the Treasury Department – a founding partner in the Civilian Response Corps, and a critical player in economically rebuilding failed states – simply dropped out of the “army,” its first major defection.  Meanwhile, the U.S. military, viewing this farce from across the Potomac River, has, understandably, begun organizing its own version of a civilian response corps, made up of DoD civilian employees.

Now, fast forward to the present.  The Administration’s recent Quadrennial Diplomacy and Development Review (QDDR), stated boldly that “embracing” conflict prevention and response in fragile states is a “core civilian mission.”  The QDDR proposed the creation of a new Bureau of Crisis and Stabilization Operations – the outfit Ambassador Barton has been tapped to head – to serve as the “locus for policy and operational solutions for crisis, conflict, and instability.”  The question remains whether the new surge in rhetoric, enthusiasm, and bureaucratic structures will – given the tepid performance of the past decade – translate into a capable civilian surge capacity on the ground when the world decides it needs to manage the next conflictive crisis.

It is not too late to rescue a great idea:  The United States, as well as its transatlantic partners, needs  a civilian surge capacity more than ever, both when confronted with instability in fragile states or when transitional opportunities arise, as in the birth of “Arab Spring” democracy movements in the Middle East.  It is past time to end the timidity and half-measures of the past several decades, and build a serious cadre of highly trained, on-call, conflict and stabilization technical specialists.  Before we have another repeat of the post-invasion Iraq fiasco, the Administration and Congress need to reach an agreement fully to staff, fund, and empower the new Bureau for Conflict and Stabilization Operations and the still-nascent Civilian Response Corps.

James Kunder is a Senior Resident Fellow at the German Marshall Fund of the United States.

Image by Lafayette University.

ISTANBUL— Even in an otherwise remarkable year for the broader Middle East, the most recent developments have underscored the degree to which the strategic realities of the region have changed. The death of Libyan dictator Muammar Gaddafi was the latest consequence of the tumultuous Arab Awakening. The United States’ announcement of a final withdrawal from Iraq by the year’s end has raised further questions about the West’s traditional leadership and influence across the region. And Turkish Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdo?an’s high-profile blitzkrieg from Somalia to various post-Arab Spring capitals and the United Nations highlighted the role that Turkey — one of the region’s strongest democracies — is now playing in shaping the regional agenda. Yet twin disasters last week in the form of terrorist attacks by the Kurdistan Workers Party (PKK) on the Turkish border outpost in Hakkari, which resulted in over 24 deaths and 18 injuries, and the 7.2 earthquake in Ercis and Van have raised important questions about the fragility of the Turkish model.

The timing of the Hakkari attacks could not have been more provocative. They occurred on the same day as a major constitutional debate among political parties in Ankara, a day after five policemen and three civilians were killed in a nearby border town, and three days after Turkish President Abdullah Gül visited troops in the region to boost morale. The deadliest PKK assault in several years, it appears to have involved over 100 terrorists in a carefully orchestrated set of maneuvers. On the same day that the United States announced the withdrawal of all troops from Iraq by the end of the year, Turkey launched a massive cross-border operation against Kurdish strongholds in the north of that country.

This dangerous escalation of the Kurdish problem threatens the security of an important border region, while dragging one of the region’s last stable powers into region-wide instability. While embracing the so-called Arab Spring and supporting the Palestinian cause, Turkey’s leaders have not accommodated Kurdish assertions of autonomy or freedom. Erdo?an’s government, while preaching the virtues of soft power — whether in the form of economic engagement, visa liberalization, or “zero problems” with neighbors — has also had to rely once again on traditional hard power. All of this makes it hard to imagine Turkey realizing its full potential until it is able to successfully address the Kurdish problem.

Turkey’s approach to the PKK has also complicated its already tangled relations with other states in the Middle East and beyond. Only two weeks earlier, Israel’s foreign minister, Avigdor Lieberman, threatened to support the PKK in response to harsh Turkish criticism of his government, a move that now seems particularly ill-advised. Tensions with both Iran and Saudi Arabia have also increased, complicating the delicate balance in Iraq. And Erdo?an’s out-of-the-blue and unsubstantiated accusation only a week before the Hakkari attacks that a German foundation was providing support to the PKK has also strained relations with the European Union. The only silver lining may be that the attacks serve as a reminder to Ankara of the importance of its alliance with the United States, which has offered it concrete intelligence and military support against the PKK for close to three decades.

Turkey now faces serious challenges to both of its primary strategic objectives: advancing regional stability while enhancing its own influence. Its laudable objective of serving as an honest broker in some of the Middle East’s most intractable conflicts inevitably collides with the reality of having to deal with internal challenges to its own stability. Ultimately, stability in the Middle East rests upon how regional players like Turkey answer their own populations’ demands in a responsible and timely manner. Despite the historic 2009 “Kurdish Opening” proclaimed by Erod?an, Ankara has resorted to ratcheting up its rhetoric to respond to populist outrage. While it is too soon to tell what the long-term impact will be on Turkish foreign policy, the domestic damage has already been done, with the rise of nationalist and populist sentiments that conflate the PKK with all Turkish citizens of Kurdish origin. Erdo?an’s signature project — rewriting Turkey’s constitution in a way that guarantees ethnic rights and fairness to all of its citizens — has now become that much harder. Unfortunately, overcoming Ankara’s natural disasters will be much easier than the remaining manmade obstacles along the way.

Joshua W. Walker is a Transatlantic Fellow at the German Marshall Fund of the United States.

Image by Evrim Aydin / Anadolu Agnecy via EPA

WASHINGTON — Last week in Baghdad, on his maiden overseas trip as U.S. Secretary of Defense, Leon Panetta pressed Iraqi officials on whether they wanted American forces to remain in the country after 2011.  Until a few weeks ago, Iraq was largely out of the public spotlight and a low priority for most U.S. policymakers and legislators as a result of the successful “surge” strategy undertaken by the United States after 2007 and the joint U.S.-Iraqi decision in 2008 to withdraw all U.S. forces by December 31, 2011.  Today, the process of U.S. withdrawal is well underway, with only about 46,000 military trainers and advisors remaining in Iraq, down from a peak of more than 150,000 just three years ago.  However, signs of Iranian support for radical Shiite militia groups, the need for further training of Iraqi security forces, and differences within the current Iraqi coalition government over the United States’ presence have started to refocus Washington’s attention.

The American presence in Iraq is also being affected by ongoing budgetary battles in the U.S. Congress, as legislators prepare this year’s Foreign Operations appropriations bill. Congress may well seek to drastically reduce funding for ongoing activities in Iraq, where the United States plans to double the size of its embassy to 16,000 personnel, and for which the State Department has requested $6.2 billion. Although that figure seems high (but is merely a fraction of what was being spent just a few years ago), the State Department will be the U.S. government entity responsible for all U.S. civilian efforts in Iraq when 2012 arrives. It also has to fund its own embassy operations and that of its consulates in a high-risk country, one in which nearly a quarter of the Iraqi government’s own budget is spent on security. In May, recognizing these concerns, the four previous U.S. ambassadors to Iraq sent a letter to Congressional leaders in which they stated that the situation in Iraq “remains fragile and potentially reversible,” and failure to properly fund U.S. efforts going forward “puts at risk the investment America has already made to establish a democratic, peaceful, and economically stable government in this most important region.”

Their argument is spot on. Underfunding post-2011 activities in Iraq will hurt the United States in many ways. It will enable Iran to exert more pressure on the Iraqi government by supporting insurgent efforts, and will allow radical anti-American Shiite groups to have a say in the country’s future. The U.S. transition in Iraq will also serve as a bellwether for its mission in Afghanistan, with underfunding sending the wrong signals to stakeholders in that conflict regarding reconciliation, the transition to Afghan control, and reconstruction and development efforts. Finally, it risks further damage to the United States’ reputation for not being able to finish the job. U.S. policymakers and legislators need to prevent Iraq from becoming another Afghanistan or Pakistan, where American abandonment in the late 1980s contributed to the rise of forces that directly threatened the security of the United States and its allies.

The Foreign Operations appropriations bill will probably not be taken up for a few weeks, if not several months.  While this is a telling indictment of how the American public views the importance of U.S. engagement around the world, it does give time for a serious discussion in Congress on how to fund U.S. civilian-led efforts in Iraq and, if necessary, an extended military mission. The fact is that it is in U.S. national and regional security interests for the United States to maintain a robust presence in Iraq and prevent it from falling into the Iranian security sphere.  An enduring U.S. military presence that supports Iraqi Security Forces — if requested by the Iraqi government — will help ensure that Iraq remains a success story, a fledgling democracy aligned with the United States and the West. Congress and the American people have an obligation to prevent Iran from threatening U.S. interests and allies in the greater Middle East, demonstrate that the United States has the stomach to get the job done, and ensure that the battles fought, dollars spent, lives transformed, and souls forever lost in these efforts were not in vain.

Daniel P. Fata is a Transatlantic Fellow at the German Marshall Fund of the United States in Washington. From 2005 to 2008, he served as the U.S. Deputy Assistant Secretary of Defense for Europe and NATO Policy.

Photo courtesy the U.S. Army.

WASHINGTON — Last week, U.S. President Barack Obama announced a formal end to the American combat role in Iraq. Although a very substantial military presence of around 50,000 troops will remain for training and more limited counterterrorism operations, the shift in mission marks a turning point in the almost eight-year-long U.S. engagement. As America heads for the exits, its international partners will retain a heavy stake in the end game and the future of Iraq. The potential consequences encompass transatlantic relations as well as regional stability. Obama’s long-anticipated announcement is a good moment to take stock of the implications.

First, a progressive disengagement from Iraq is a political as well as a strategic imperative for the Obama administration. With very difficult mid-term elections looming, and an economy delicately poised between recovery and renewed recession, the opportunity to take at least one external problem off the agenda is welcome. Not that the disengagement can be accomplished overnight – far from it. But as a matter for political debate, Iraq is a waning issue. Having inherited an unpopular conflict, the current administration can at least claim that it has done no further harm to American interests or regional security.  The prospects for a “least harm” exit in Afghanistan, and a reconfiguration of the NATO efforts there for counter-terrorism more narrowly defined, may also be influenced by the perceived success or failure of the end game in Iraq.

Second, disengagement from an active combat role in Iraq will have implications for American policy vis-à-vis the two central policy challenges in the Middle East—Iran and the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. On Iran, the administration faces the unwelcome possibility of a nuclear break-out that may demand a military response. More likely, the United States may be compelled to engineer a new, long-term strategy of containment in the Gulf. Operationally, and politically, this will require a clearing of the decks, shedding the baggage from the Iraq War that has hobbled American policy for almost a decade.  How will this be seen from Tehran? The Iraq War swept away Iran’s leading geopolitical competitor and security concern. It is most unlikely that Iraq itself will pose any direct threat to Iranian security for decades to come. On the other hand, competition with Iraq historically provided a leading spur to Iran’s nuclear and ballistic missile programs. (Tehran almost certainly shared the international misjudgments about Iraq’s WMD capabilities.) It is entirely possible that Iran’s progress toward a deliverable nuclear arsenal might have been more rapid if Saddam Hussein had remained in place.  In this respect, among others, the United States and transatlantic partners are only beginning to reckon with the longer-term geopolitical consequences, positive and negative, of a weak and unsettled Iraq.

Given the long history of disappointments in the peace process, it is hard to be optimistic about the recent resumption of direct talks between Israel and the Palestinian Authority. But it is an important step, and some observers argue convincingly that circumstances this time might just be propitious for a comprehensive settlement—the ultimate diplomatic prize for any American administration. Relative stability in Iraq will allow key regional actors, including Jordan and Saudi Arabia, to take risks for peace that might seem unacceptable against a backdrop of chaos or renewed violence on their borders. More generally, a smaller U.S. military footprint in Iraq will offer fewer targets for extremists and may lower the pressure for radicalization across the board. All of which will affect security on Israel’s borders and the climate for negotiation.

Third, the disengagement from Iraq will touch directly on Turkish interests, and will be central to the future of a troubled U.S.-Turkish relationship. Many Turks are convinced that U.S. strategy in the Middle East has worked against their country’s security interests. Public perceptions on this score are well documented in leading opinion surveys, including GMF’s Transatlantic Trends (the 2010 findings, to be released Wednesday, are especially revealing. See www.transatlantictrends.org on Wednesday). Conditions in Northern Iraq and cross-border attacks by the PKK (Kurdistan Workers Party) are at the heart of Turkish concerns. Ankara needs continued American assistance—intelligence and equipment—to support its operations against the PKK. At the same time, the United States needs access to Turkish ports and Incirlik Airbase to facilitate the removal of heavy equipment from Iraq. If Turkish cooperation is not forthcoming, there are logistical alternatives. But, as in 2003, the consequences for bilateral relations can be significant, especially against a backdrop of highly visible Turkish-U.S. differences over Iran and Israel. Fortunately, there is every sign that Washington and Ankara are on the same page when it comes to cooperation in the Iraq endgame. It will be a key test of strategic coordination for the two transatlantic allies with the most direct stakes in the future of postwar Iraq. Finally, beyond the ongoing challenge of Afghanistan, a concerted approach to the disengagement phase in Iraq will send a strong signal that NATO allies can work together on other contingencies outside the European space. Missions of exactly this kind are likely to feature more prominently in NATO’s new strategic concept to be announced at the Lisbon summit in November.

Ian Lesser is a Senior Transatlantic Fellow at the German Marshall Fund in Washington, DC

President Barack Obama Wednesday fired his own chosen field commander for Afghanistan, General Stanley McChrystal, and replaced him with McChrystal’s boss in the military chain of command, General David Petraeus.  Obama was right to fire McChrystal after the general and his staff made outrageous comments to a Rolling Stone reporter, with unfavorable characterizations of Vice President Joe Biden and other senior administration officials. In the American and other western systems, the primacy of the elected civilian leadership over the military is a central governing principle that is rarely challenged.  Even in this case, it seems clear that McChrystal did not seek to fundamentally question the President’s authority; his poor judgment was in expressing personal frustration publicly and, apparently, in abetting an atmosphere for his staff that encouraged their own worst instincts.  But Obama’s swift action was nevertheless essential to ensure that this principle is preserved.  Beyond the point of principle, Obama also faced charges of weakness at home and abroad, and this decision was tactically necessary as well.  By any standard, Obama’s statement announcing his decision was masterful in substance and tone.

Unfortunately, despite Obama’s impressive handling of this episode, this week’s events will only add to a perception that events in Afghanistan are going against the United States and its allies.  Obama in his comments referred to breaking “the Taliban’s momentum.”  The fact that such momentum persists after close to nine years of combat—which makes this the longest-running war in American history—and only one year before his own stated deadline to begin a drawdown of forces is not encouraging.

European governments and publics will also see this week as yet one more reason to question the course of events in Afghanistan.  The Rolling Stone article confirms unambiguously that the team Obama has put in place to run the war has not functioned well and that there are serious, unresolved internal differences on how to proceed.  The strategy that the Obama team took so long to develop does not seem to be yielding the results that were hoped.  In any war, but especially in a war like Afghanistan, confidence of success is critical.  This week will only strengthen the confidence of the Taliban, who will see in this leadership change evidence of confusion on our part.

In an attempt to deal with this question of confidence, Obama selected General David Petraeus to replace McChrystal.  Petraeus is the hero of the “bad war” in Iraq, the thinker who authored the surge strategy that has substantially reduced violence there and, perhaps, given politics in Iraq a real if uncertain chance.  McChrystal’s surge strategy for Afghanistan was drawn from his own Iraq experience and from the Petraeus approach, and Petraeus (as commander of U.S. Central Command) oversaw McChrystal’s efforts in Afghanistan.

Obama takes a certain political risk in the United States by associating himself so decisively with the same general his predecessor picked to pull Iraq out of its disastrous state in 2005-2006.  Further, calling Petraeus back to field command suggests a lack of confidence in the other available choices, which may only increase grumbling within the senior ranks of the military.  It also puts an almost inhuman burden on Petraeus himself, as if Eisenhower had been put in charge of the Pacific war after his campaign in Europe.

The stakes in Afghanistan are very high.  A defeat would strengthen Islamist extremists immeasurably and likely hasten a sense of the decline of the West’s ability to defend itself and to influence events in its favor.  The triumph of the Taliban, whose values as manifest during their time in power are as inimical to those of Europe and the United States as can be imagined, would be a catastrophe.  Obama was right to defend the purposes of the war in Afghanistan when he replaced his commander, and he did so in strong terms:

“We will not tolerate a safe haven for terrorists who want to destroy Afghan security from within, and launch attacks against innocent men, women, and children in our country and around the world.  So make no mistake:  We have a clear goal.  We are going to break the Taliban’s momentum.  We are going to build Afghan capacity.  We are going to relentlessly apply pressure on al Qaeda and its leadership, strengthening the ability of both Afghanistan and Pakistan to do the same.”

This week marks a key moment for the United States, for its allies, and for Obama’s presidency.  If Petraeus is to succeed in Afghanistan, he must enjoy the confidence of his commander-in-chief. For his part, Obama owes Petraeus and the United States’ allies a smoothly functioning political team to guide and support the military effort.  If McChrystal’s comments that rightly got him fired catalyze such a development, he will have done his country—and the allied cause—a final unintended service.  But if this episode only weakens Western commitment and determination even further, the consequences will be disastrous.

WASHINGTON — “Bush was right” is not a view frequently expressed in the New York Times.   But, there it was, in Thomas Friedman’s March 10 column:   “Former President George W. Bush’s gut instinct that this region craved and needed democracy was always right.”

Friedman was referring to the elections that took place this week in Iraq.   Marred by violence and delivering an outcome that is still unclear, the Iraqi elections have nevertheless been received as good news for democratic consolidation in Iraq.   They have been extensively covered in the United States, less so in Europe.   In the run-up to the elections, a group of authors from Newsweek wrote, ” €¦ [I]t should be understood – now, almost seven hellish years later – that something that looks mighty like democracy is emerging in Iraq. And while it may not be a beacon of inspiration to the region, it most certainly is a watershed event that could come to represent a whole new era in the history of the massively undemocratic Middle East.”

This is hardly a moment for triumphalism.   The success of this election, the long-run tenacity of representative government in Iraq, and the impact such success might have on the broader Middle East, remain uncertain.   Nor is this the time to declare that, in Iraq, the ends justified the means.  

This is, though, a moment to reflect on what these elections might mean in the transatlantic context.

U.S. President George W. Bush’s decision to invade Iraq without a clear United Nations mandate, and with no consensus on the threat Iraq presented, precipitated a crisis in transatlantic relations.   Substantial efforts by President Bush in his second term–including attendance at U.S.-EU summits and frequent conversations with European counterparts–were well-received by European leaders and helped restore a more constructive tenor, but European publics did not pick up on that.  

Europe welcomed President Barack  Obama’s election and his efforts to distinguish himself from his predecessor.   Like German Chancellor Gerhard Schroeder and French President Jacques Chirac, Obama had opposed the Iraq invasion.   Obama’s election was attributable in large measure to the economic crisis, but one element in both the 2006 congressional elections and 2008 presidential election was that a majority of the American people had joined in the European view that Iraq was a “bad war.”

After this fairly comprehensive rejection of the Iraq war, what is it that President Bush may have been right about, in the view of Thomas Friedman, Newsweek, and others?

Certainly not about the idea that any culture, Iraqi or another, can be easily brought to embrace representative government.   Certainly not the notion that elections are the only requirement for, and measure of, good governance.   Certainly not an approach whereby unilateral strength is taken to obviate the necessity for vigorous diplomacy among like-minded nations.

But Bush was right about this, in his second inaugural address at the start of what would be a terrible year in Iraq: “[E]very man and woman on this earth has rights, and dignity, and matchless value, because they bear the image of the Maker of Heaven and earth. Across the generations we have proclaimed the imperative of self-government, because no one is fit to be a master, and no one deserves to be a slave.”  

President Obama drew from the same basic convictions in his own words in Cairo last June: “I do have an unyielding belief that all people yearn for certain things:   the ability to speak your mind and have a say in how you are governed; confidence in the rule of law €¦; government that is transparent €¦; the freedom to live as you choose.   These are not just American ideas; they are human rights.   And that is why we will support them everywhere.”

The ideas and beliefs that have led Europe and its former North American colonies (as well as our friends Down Under) to create the most accountable governments in history, with the greatest regard for human rights, are what President Bush was right about, as was President Obama.   These ideas have spread beyond the regions of Europe and North America to become the norms of government in most lands, sometimes as authentic governing principles and sometimes only as rhetorical decoys to obscure tyranny.   But they are norms.   The Iraqi elections should assure us that we are right to support these ideas, even as the experience in Iraq has made painfully clear that the means we choose to support them–the question that divided Europe and America in Iraq–must be weighed very carefully.

Joseph R. Wood is a Senior Resident Fellow with the German Marshall Fund in Washington, D.C.