PARIS–President Barack Obama’s announcement last June of an accelerated U.S. troop withdrawal from Afghanistan reopened debates in many European countries over when their soldiers should return from that unpopular war. French President Nicolas Sarkozy followed a few days later with an announcement that French troops would be reduced “in a proportional manner and in a calendar comparable to the withdrawal of American reinforcements.” Now, the tables have turned. With last week’s announcement, it was France that reset the transition calendar, arguing that progress in the transition allowed for the withdrawal of 1,000 French troops by the end of 2012. Although many U.S., Afghan, and NATO observers were initially critical, the Obama administration announced only a few days later that the United States also planned to end its combat mission in Afghanistan by mid-2013 and shift primarily to advising Afghan forces.

Both Sarkozy’s and Obama’s calls for a speedier NATO exit from Afghanistan reflect the depth of war fatigue in the West, the unpopularity of the Afghan war, and the relentless budgetary and political pressures leaders face to bring their troops home early. As Obama put it in his June 2011 speech on Afghanistan, “it is time to focus on nation building here at home,” a sentiment shared by many in Europe. The French military engagement in Afghanistan has always been perceived in France as a “war of solidarity” without clearly defined strategic objectives, aimed at repairing U.S.-French relations after France’s refusal to participate in the coalition against Iraq in 2003. Coming just three months before the election, Sarkozy’s announcement reflects a compromise between the Lisbon NATO consensus and his presidential campaign rival Francois Hollande’s promise of ending the French military presence in Afghanistan by the end of 2012. But in fact, both dates are unrealistic considering the unpreparedness of the Afghan security forces to lead coalition forces and the overreliance of the Afghan government on external assistance.

Indeed, the argument that progress has been made in Afghanistan is disputable. Today, in the province of Kapisa, Afghan representatives recognize that their security forces are not ready to assume the responsibilities of the coalition. Growing anti-Western sentiments, stemming from a serious trust deficit between Afghans and coalition forces and combined with the operational unpreparedness of Afghan forces, a weak central government, and the Taliban’s high morale, raise serious questions about the post-2014 role of the United States and its allies. A series of recent incidents in which Afghan troops have turned on their Western allies confirms the failure of the counterinsurgency and “winning hearts and minds” tactics deployed in Afghanistan over the last few years, as well as the flaws in the training mission in the absence of a legitimate central authority.

The coalition’s decade of military engagement in Afghanistan is a story of constant oscillation between three strategies that were never really connected. After a phase of “Americanization” of the Afghan war through the surge, and a phase of “internationalization” with the increase in coalition members’ contributions and assistance, “Afghanization” or the “transition” phase involving the training of local security forces has become the central pillar of the coalition’s exit strategy. But when the strategy becomes about exiting, the strategy of the weak prevails in setting the international calendar and the narrative. In fact, as both the French and American decisions illustrate, the gradual foreign troop reductions have mostly been in response to forces other than security progress in Afghanistan.

Alexandra de Hoop Scheffer is Director of the Paris office of the German Marshall Fund of the United States. 

French President Nicolas Sarkozy’s recent announcement that French troops would hand over their security responsibilities to Afghan forces by the end of 2013 — a year earlier than the completion of the NATO combat mission — has caused some to declare that the entire Afghanistan operation is at risk. The French decision certainly reflects Sarkozy’s need to address pressing domestic pressure to bring forces home as his presidential reelection campaign begins. But Sarkozy will have to balance this with the need to maintain France’s reputation within NATO. There will be times when alliance interests will need to trump national interest. The decision must also be put into context. It poses little operational risk, and is by no means a repudiation of the validity of the International Security Assistance Force (ISAF) mission in Afghanistan. What the French decision does reflect is the politics that accompany any coalition mission, however undesirable.

From an operational standpoint, there is no doubt that the 4,000 French troops in Afghanistan, mainly in Kapisa province, have made a difference. French forces have shown acuity in counterinsurgency operations, and French trainers, especially gendarmes, have been critical to increasing the capacity of Afghan National Security Forces. But as with all ISAF nations, the French are now looking at what the expected 2014 transition will mean and how they can best support Afghanistan during this process and beyond. For many states, this will mean a shift away from combat to training operations. Thus, the more important question is what role will France choose to play beyond transition and will it reflect the balance between national and alliance interests? While France has signed a 20-year strategic partnership agreement with Afghanistan to cover security, economic, and political cooperation, it remains unclear what mix of forces France would contribute to a training mission through 2014 and beyond. A firm French commitment at the upcoming NATO summit to provide significant numbers of personnel to NATO and EU training missions would be especially welcome as the planning for a post-2014 Afghanistan continues. Likewise, specified commitments to development projects and expertise to assist the Afghan government in establishing more effective rule of law could have an even greater impact in addressing the strategic vulnerabilities of the Afghan state.

While it is certainly irksome that the French chose not to use the Joint Afghan-NATO Inteqal Board (JANIB) process to work through the timeline on transition in Kapisa, the decision was not a surprise to NATO or Afghan government officials. Indeed, Presidents Karzai and Sarkozy had already agreed to the 2013 timeline in pre-decisional meetings prior to the public announcement. Both NATO and the Afghan government have long expected Kapisa province to transition as part of the third “tranche,” likely to be announced in March 2012. This will give ISAF and Afghan forces plenty of time to fully handover security operations and prepare Kapisa for Afghan leadership. While the pace of the French drawdown has been increased there will still be about 3,000 French troops in Afghanistan at the end of 2012. In short, the French decision is simply a repackaging of the milestones that have been discussed for almost two years now.

Coalitions are, almost by definition, imperfect creatures. They are politically complex and require considerable investment and management to get them to work. Indeed, Napoleon is reported to have said that he’d rather fight against a coalition than as part of one. But it is equally important to recall that it was, in the end, a coalition that defeated Napoleon. The art of leading a successful coalition requires balancing national and alliance interests and an understanding of when to give one way or another. In an age of budget austerity, NATO members must continue to remember that alliances mean shared commitment, shared contributions, and shared sacrifice. In Afghanistan the transition process has also always had an unwritten purpose — to keep the NATO allies and ISAF partners together until the Afghans could lead on their own and it was formulated with an eye towards maintaining sufficient domestic political support in each nation so that force contributions could continue, even if they had to be adjusted over time. Building and maintaining a coalition is not always a pretty process, but it is a necessary one, and in Afghanistan it will be better to win messy than lose pretty.

Mark Jacobson, former Deputy NATO Senior Civilian Representative in Afghanistan, is a senior fellow at the German Marshall Fund of the United States in Washington DC.

WASHINGTON–Mitt Romney, one of the leading Republican U.S. Presidential candidates, has informed his countrymen over the past few weeks that U.S. President Barack Obama is working to turn the United States into Europe. This, one might think, is good news. Presumably it suggests that a unified “West” is closer to becoming a reality. The president, someone in Washington D.C., is working for ever greater convergence in the world’s greatest alliance. After decades of unabashed Americanization of Europe, it seems, the tables are turning. In due time, the need for transatlantic learning and knowledge transfer between friends and partners will be obsolete. We will all be one happy family.

Indeed, from the perspective of a Republican presidential candidate there is much to like about Europe these days. After all, Europe is largely run by fellow conservatives. They preach and (increasingly) practice fiscal responsibility and structural reform to fix the ills of the continent — a strategy candidate Romney calls on President Obama to embrace.

Let’s pause right here and stop fantasizing. The reality is quite different. Yes, Mitt Romney sees the United States as being transformed into another version of Europe. But in Romney’s eyes that’s no compliment, rather it’s an insult. Romney contends that under Obama, a “European-style welfare state” is America’s destiny. Or, in another version of this horrific vision that permeates most of the candidate’s campaign speeches, “a European-style entitlement society.” Obama, according to Romney, “takes his inspiration from the capitals of Europe; we look to the cities and small towns of America.” Learning from Europe seems to “poison the very spirit of America.” Fellow Republican candidate Rick Santorum agrees, claiming that Obama is “trying to impose some sort of European socialism on the United States.” Not to be outdone, candidate Newt Gingrich, in his South Carolina victory speech on Saturday night, detected the emergence of a “brand new, secular European-style bureaucratic socialism” in America.

So, why are the Republican presidential candidates running against Europe rather than against each other? Why is Europe a dirty word in this campaign? First of all, the vilification of Europe is not a new phenomenon in U.S. politics. Remember the “cheese-eating surrender monkeys”? That epithet, common during the debate about the intervention in Iraq in 2003, referred to the French, for whom the worst abuse is traditionally reserved. The French, often linked with the Germans to form an alliance of “Euroweenies,” chose to sit out the war against Iraq’s weapons of mass destruction and were thus scolded for having lost their “moral compass.” That incident happened barely ten years ago, but one might go back hundreds of years and still detect the same type of argument about Europe. As Princeton historian Linda Colley has pointed out, Americans have traditionally understood their history, culture, and identity in contrast to Europe’s. The United States was founded as the antidote to Europe. The old continent was “the other,” against which to define oneself. The history of immigration helped to entrench the view that one side of the Atlantic was intrinsically better and more blessed than the other. European decadence was replaced by “authentic Americanism.” Europe, as described by the novels of Henry James, was both corrupt and corrupting. “America was a country of innocence, virtue, happiness, and liberty as against a Europe of vice, ignorance, misery, and tyranny,” writes historian C. Vann Woodward. Thus, it was anti-Europeanism that reinforced the new idea of U.S. exceptionalism.

Initially, Anti-Europeanism has risen in combination with an inferiority complex vis-a-vis the supposedly culturally superior Europeans. Certainly, World War II and Europe’s inability to solve its own problems at that time cured Americans of any sense of humility. Since the Cold War, anti-Europeanism has by no means been a U.S. obsession. It has come and gone in waves and has only established itself as a staple of the intellectual life of one wing of U.S. conservatism, just as its sibling, European anti-Americanism, found its home mostly on the political left. The Eurobashers on the U.S. right use a few standard leitmotifs to make their case against the “EU-nuchs” whose “values and spines have dissolved in a lukewarm bath of multilateral, transnational, secular, and postmodern fudge,” to quote the ironic characterization of writer Timothy Garton Ash. At times, anti-Europeanism can be quite funny, especially when skillfully expressed by George W. Bush who famously said: “The problem with the French is that they don’t have a word for entrepreneur.”

The question is how seriously to take all of this Eurobaloney? In this Republican presidential primary campaign, Europe has been nothing but a foil. Anti-Europeanism has been a code word for anti-liberalism.  At the same time, Americans have long appealed to European politicians not to pander to the anti-American segments of the European public, fearing that fleeting prejudice could turn into lasting chauvinism. Gerhard Schroeder, then-German Chancellor, earned condemnation in the United States when he played to the pacifist anti-Americanism of his electorate to gain re-election in 2002. Should Mitt Romney, Newt Gingrich, and the rest of the Republican candidates really be held to a different standard?

Thomas Kleine-Brockhoff is a Senior Fellow and Senior Director for Strategy at the German Marshall Fund of the United States 

WASHINGTON– Strange as it may seem to some, there are those who wish to join the European Union, in spite of all its current flaws.

Croatian voters gave a resounding yes to becoming the 28^th member state of the European Union in a referendum held last Sunday. The country is slated to join as a full member on July 1, 2013, after the parliaments of all 27 current member states ratify the treaty of accession to the EU that Croatia signed in December 2011. The European model of interstate cooperation, the successful European peace project, the single market, and the principle of solidarity and mutual support: all these continue to exert the power of attraction to outsiders wanting to join.

The European Union, founded in 1957, is currently fighting one of its deepest crises: It is struggling to salvage the joint currency of 17 of its 27 member states. Chancellor Angela Merkel of Germany and other EU leaders have equated saving the euro with saving the Union itself.  There is a growing renationalization of politics in European countries, and fear of “others” is on the rise. Despite all this, a European country, Croatia, has decided through a democratic procedure that it wishes to join this European Union.

Croatian leaders have hailed this victory as “a great day for Croatia,” “a new day and a new chapter,” “a decision of such importance that we have made ourselves for the first time,” and “finding a haven guaranteeing security and peace.” But they also underlined that the dilemmas and concerns of those who voted against entry or abstained from voting have to be given due consideration.

The low turnout and the third of voters voting against entry were disappointing for many in Croatia, but also to a degree understandable. The crisis of the European Union, the fear that sovereignty is being taken away — after what has been perceived as a hard-fought war for national independence — the worry that now Croatia might also have to help bail out countries such as Greece, and the deep concern that a country that represents 0.8% of the population of the EU and 1.6% of EU parliamentarians will have no effective say in the affairs of the EU — all this created a relevant Eurosceptic movement and led more than half of the eligible voters to abstain.

In an electorate composed of 4.5 million voters, the turnout was 43.5%. This was, to date, the lowest turnout in an EU accession referendum. Of those who voted, 66.27% were for entry, 33.12% against.

Until now, 15 countries of the EU have asked their citizens to approve accession in referenda. The lowest turnout in a referendum for EU entry before Croatia was in Hungary in 2003, when 45.62% turned out, but 83% voted for joining the Union. Relatively low turnouts were registered in 2003 in the Czech Republic and Poland (55% and 58%) but with 77% majorities for entry. The highest turnout was in Malta with 90%, but “only” 53% voted for entry. Swedish voters in 1995 voted with the lowest majority for entry (52.8%). The biggest majority for entry was in Slovakia with 92.5%, with a 52% turnout. Denmark in 1973 and Finland in 1995 returned less than two-third majorities for entry. Meanwhile, Norway rejected entry twice, in 1973 and 1995, with majorities of 53.3% and 52.2%.

Why did Croatian voters decide to enter the EU? And, why did they do it with somewhat less conviction than their predecessors?

The common wisdom of the Croatian and other Western Balkan publics, where there are majorities for accession, is that it is better, as small and economically weak countries, to join a still very prosperous Union of 500 million people and 27 member states, than to stay outside of it. A Europe that has seen 67 years of post-war peace makes for an inviting haven for the successor states of the former Yugoslavia, who went through a harrowing conflict in the 1990s. For them, entry into the EU is still, above all, a guarantee of security, stability, and peace. In this stricken corner of Europe, the EU’s soft power is very real.

Enlargement of the EU, one of its greatest successes, continues despite “fatigue” — and despite long waiting times. (Croatia handed in its formal application for EU membership in 2003.) The next members in line, apart from Iceland, which is on a fast track, will probably do so at the earliest toward the end of this decade. Montenegro is a formal candidate for EU accession, with a date set for talks; Macedonia is a candidate; Serbia is awaiting candidacy in March. Bosnia and Herzegovina (BiH) has signed a Stabilization and Association Agreement. Kosovo’s case is the most complicated, since it remains unrecognized as a state by Serbia, BiH, and five EU member states, and has as yet no formal relationship with the EU. And then, of course, there is Turkey.

The “Yes” of Croatia’s citizens is a historical watershed: for the country itself, for a formerly war-torn region, and for the EU. It is another step towards the completion of an integrated Europe, free, democratic, and at peace.

Ivan Vejvoda is the German Marshal Fund’s Vice President for Programs

WASHINGTON – As he campaigned for the U.S. presidency in 1952, Republican candidate Dwight D. Eisenhower argued that he would seek to bring “security with solvency” to the American people.  Eisenhower realized that the challenges posed by the Soviet Union could too easily stress America’s finite resources and a strategy to face that threat consider the economic roots of America’s military power and influence in the world. For Eisenhower, economic power was the indispensable source of American global leadership.

In his State of the Union address Tuesday evening, U.S. President Barack Obama seemed to recognize Eisenhower’s insight.  Obama focused largely on the economic challenges still facing the United States — but framed those challenges in the context of recent national security victories and the achievements of the World War II generation.  While Obama did focus on domestic affairs, he both opened and closed his address by praising America’s men and women in uniform — one of the few points drawing bi-partisan applause – and took stock of a broad set of foreign policy and security challenges that face the United States today. He also made clear that the new U.S. defense strategy would also balance security with solvency — saving nearly half a trillion dollars but maintaining the type of first-rate military required to deal with current and emerging threats.

Obama’s address included a call to learn from the shared sacrifice, partnership, and teamwork that the U.S. military demonstrates day after day, to include that shown in the mission to kill Osama bin Laden in May of last year — clearly the most significant national security event of the past twelve months.

Obama was assertive in his description of his vision of America’s role in the world but realistic when considering the complexity of the challenges ahead. In stark contrast to much of the isolationist rhetoric of the Republican primary debates, he argued that America continues to be a strong, ascendant world leader with a “steadfast” commitment to allies around the globe.

Of course, Obama noted the end of the war in Iraq and the determination to transition to Afghan leadership.  He also acknowledged the “wave of change” brought about by the Arab Spring and issued a sharp rebuke to the Assad regime — noting that they would soon discover “that the forces of change can’t be reversed and that human dignity can’t be denied.”   He praised the power of partnerships that have enabled a unified approach to counter the Iranian quest for nuclear weapons but was realistic in his assessment of whether this in and of itself would provide the solution.  Coming a day after U.S., British, and French warships entered the Persian Gulf despite threats from Iran; Obama reiterated that while he hoped for a peaceful resolution, “no options” were off the table.

It is telling that while facing a tough re-election in a poor economy, Obama has chosen to frame domestic problems within the context of foreign policy successes.  It is a clear indication that even while Washington focuses on a Presidential election campaign, the administration will not abdicate the responsibilities the United States has as a global leader.

Mark R. Jacobson is a Senior Transatlantic Fellow at the German Marshall Fund. He has formerly served at the Department of Defense and on the staff of the Senate Armed Services Committee. The views expressed are his own.

Fewer than 30 days into the new year, the foreign policy agenda for Europe and North America has already become crowded.  North Korea, Iran, Syria, potential breakthroughs in Burma, and the still roiling revolutionary fervor in the Middle East are but a few of the issues facing transatlantic policymakers.  Iraq, facing renewed violence in the wake of Coalition troop withdrawals, and Afghanistan, where France just lost more soldiers and ambivalence reigns on negotiating with the Taliban, have not gone away.

Add to this volatile mix national elections in the United States, France, and elsewhere and it is easy to forget one of the landmark events of 2011:  the July 9^th independence of South Sudan.  Moreover, although remembrance of the new nation’s founding is appropriate, what is more critical is that Europe and North America sustain the generally positive and optimistic dynamics of South Sudan’s birth.

These dynamics came into focus for me when I attended the recent International Engagement Conference on South Sudan, organized by the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID) in Washington.  The two-day session, addressed by the first President of South Sudan, the Honorable Salva Kiir Mayardit, saw presentations by World Bank President Zoellick, United Nations Development Programme Administrator Clark, senior European Union officials, and numerous ministerial level representatives from Sudan, Europe and North America, including U.S. Secretary of State Clinton.  The conference list of co-sponsors boded well for continued world engagement with South Sudan:  The UN; the World Bank, including the International Finance Corporation; the African Union; the European Union; the governments of Norway, Turkey, the United Kingdom, and the United States; the NGO coalition InterAction; and the Corporate Council for Africa.

And well should these international heavyweights be interested.  Not only does South Sudan possess very large – how large is yet to be fully determined – petroleum reserves, but the White Nile and other resources could be world-class sources of renewable energy.  Some of us are old enough to remember when the southern reaches of Sudan were heralded as Africa’s “breadbasket,” and the combination of vast, fertile, and well-watered lands has re-awakened interest in South Sudan’s food-producing potential.  Although its internal population is under ten million, South Sudan is at the center of a regional market containing 250 million.  And, politically, a stable South Sudan could be a bulwark against trans-national violence in a Great Lakes region that has hovered on the edge of chaos for decades.

Looked at through a slightly different lens, the risks of the transatlantic community not focusing on this fragile, newborn state are high.  South Sudan lies in a rough, violent neighborhood, bordering on regions of eastern Democratic Republic of Congo and northern Uganda notorious for fragile governance and violent atrocities.  South Sudan remains one of the most underdeveloped regions of the world (there exist fewer than 200 kilometers of paved roads in a nation-state the size of France), and underinvestment in the country’s optimistic, rapidly growing population runs the risk of spawning a crisis of rising, but unfulfilled, expectations.  Despite the generally cordial breakup of Sudan last July, the specter of continued instability haunts the Sudan-South Sudan border, with the risks of violence and human displacement ever present.  USAID reports that the U.S. government alone spent nearly $10 billion in primarily humanitarian aid in the six years prior to independence alone, a level of resources from donor nations that must now be shifted to the long-term development account, if the promise of independence is to be fulfilled.  Foreign investment, on which the new government in the capital of Juba is relying heavily, comes at this point primarily from Asia, with Chinese investment in petroleum exploration prominent.  Personally, I harbor no antipathy to Chinese investment in Africa, but – a little competition being a healthy thing – business people from the transatlantic nations should be on the ground, as well.

The International Engagement Conference on South Sudan provided a useful venue to focus on the new state’s potential.  The challenge for Europe and North America, going forward, will be to maintain, amid a daunting foreign policy agenda, the sustained focus required to fulfill the promise of a successful South Sudan, and avoid the substantial risks of under-investing in the world’s newest country.

James Kunder is a non-resident fellow at the German Marshall Fund in Washington, DC.

WASHINGTON–A year ago, during his State of the Union address, U.S. President Barack Obama set a goal for a national high-speed rail (HSR) network: 85 percent of the country’s population would have access to HSR within 25 years. One year later, that goal seems wildly optimistic.

Within a month of Obama’s speech, Florida Governor Rick Scott joined the governors of Ohio and Wisconsin (all Republicans) in rejecting HSR funds that had been targeted for his state. He, like many critics of HSR, argued that the project was too costly during a time of economic crisis and the risks would outweigh the benefits. Then, earlier this month, California’s HSR effort appeared to run out of steam. The California High-Speed Rail Peer Review Group, an independent body created by the California High-Speed Rail Authority to advise on the proposed system, released a report that detailed numerous concerns about the project’s overall funding plan and the lack of a fully vetted business plan. In the end, the report concludes that too many flaws and financial unknowns exist in the plans, representing “an immense financial risk” to the state of California. The report might well kill the prospects for a true HSR project in the United States for the foreseeable future.

So, why did Obama’s signature infrastructure project meet such a quick demise? While each project has its own reasons for failure, the Obama administration also made a critical tactical error in the way it awarded funds. Instead of identifying and investing in one promising project, the administration allocated $10 billion ($8 billion from the American Recovery and Reinvestment Act and $2 billion from appropriations) to 13 HSR projects in 31 states to foster the development of a national HSR network all at once. Additional federal funds for the network (approximately $43 billion according to Obama’s plan) were to be secured through the annual appropriations processes. The administration’s strategy appears to have been to hope the initial federal investments would spur even more substantial state and local investments in HSR, especially in a number of swing states, leading to the creation of a national network. At current estimates, a national HSR network could cost hundreds of billions of dollars — the California system alone is projected at $98 billion. With dramatic budget cuts looming, a slow economic recovery, and a toxic political environment, this strategy is not viable.

The lack of significant progress on HSR is unfortunate. A well-planned and smartly operated HSR system can be transformational for cities, helping them to maintain or improve quality of life and enhance economic competitiveness in the global economy. At one level, HSR facilitates intercity travel, fosters regionalism, and can enhance regional economic viability. At another level, as populations and densities are projected to rise in America’s large urban regions, new and better mobility alternatives will be imperative to meet a host of associated challenges. When integrated intelligently with other modes of transportation into the urban fabric, HSR can help stimulate the development of economically vibrant corridors and station stops.

A better approach to start up a national HSR network in the United States can be found in Spain. Over the past two decades, Spain has created the longest HSR network in Europe. However, AVE, the Spanish network, began with a single project, the Madrid-Seville line, which proved itself for more than 10 years before significant expansion occurred. The line, averaging 185 mph, cut the 300-mile trip time by more than half between the two cities, significantly decreasing the automobile and air travel between them but increasing the number of individual trips. Equally compelling, existing businesses near AVE stations have reported significant benefits from the investments in infrastructure. None of this is to say that Spanish HSR has been perfect — the Spanish government ultimately may have over-invested. But if the Obama administration chooses to revisit HSR, a more effective strategy would be to start small, be focused, invest smartly, and allow HSR to prove itself, which could put aspirations for a national HSR rail network back on track.

Brent Riddle is a Senior Program Officer in the German Marshall Fund’s Urban and Regional Program.

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.

BRATISLAVA—“Freedom House got it wrong!” We can expect to hear this message from an angry official in Budapest after the release on Thursday of the Freedom in the World Report 2012. Hungary has the unfortunate distinction of being the only Western democracy in which governance and civic liberties declined over the last year. Just earlier this week, Hungary’s Prime Minister Viktor Orban was grilled in the European Parliament for his government’s recent policies, including some seemingly draconian legislative steps that have brought an unexpected number of protesters to the squares and streets of Budapest. Compared to other democratically-elected leaders in post-communist countries who departed from their countries’ democratic trajectories, Orban is younger, more talented, better educated, and has a superior understanding of Western politics. But following the constitutional and political reforms of the last year — which have given him wide-ranging and centralized authority over many areas of governance and society — Orban’s furious critics at home took to calling him “Viktator.”

Like many such leaders before him, Orban has used a tried and true formula to justify or defend his actions: a political mandate, appeals to nationalism, and a sense of crisis. Orban and his followers in the Fidesz party — which won a two-thirds or constitutional majority in the 2010 elections — like reminding their critics of their popular mandate. They argue that they are simply carrying out the wishes of the people, in line with Hungary’s democracy. Secondly, Orban’s followers make appeals to the greatness and historical exclusivity of a suffering nation, defending their actions as being in the spirit of the country’s founding fathers while redressing past mistakes. Finally, they imply that the country is embroiled in a serious economic and moral crisis and that Orban is the only person capable of saving it.

Following multiple demarches by Brussels and Washington, popular domestic criticism led by prominent Hungarian intellectuals and activists, and worrisome economic trends being highlighted by credit-ratings agencies, one might expect Orban to modify his course. But it does not appear that the politically skillful Orban is about to reset his policies any time soon. In fact, rather paradoxically, the ongoing economic and political crises in the European Union and the United States have allowed Orban to advance his own assertive political rhetoric. He can also, for the time being, capitalize upon the weaknesses of a fragmented domestic political opposition, a controlled media, a scared business community, and a civil society, academia, and church that have been silenced. He is also capable of deftly tackling criticism from European technocrats by pretending to fix things around the margins.

At the same time, Orban should be aware that his country, hit hard by the economic recession, cannot survive long in isolation. Nor can he continue bluffing the United States and European Union forever. His neighbors, many of whom have sizable ethnic Hungarian minorities, will not let him freely continue making grand and bizarre gestures and statements featuring obsolete Great Hungary tones. Most of all, Orban should be aware of his own people’s power and keep in mind the fates of other seemingly omnipotent leaders in his immediate neighborhood and beyond.

Over the last two decades, countries in post-communist Europe produced various forms of government, ranging from Western-style liberal democracies to authoritarian rule. After the collapse of the Berlin Wall, it was generally assumed that those countries that graduated from the pre-accession process and entered the European Union would become immune to authoritarian practices. Hungary single-handedly overturns this assumption. Orban’s willingness to ignore criticism of his country’s departure from shared European values amid the gradual destruction of checks and balances has created headaches in many EU capitals. In that sense, Hungary’s future is deeply intertwined with that of the European Union and what it stands for: cohesion, good governance, and respect for state sovereignty. 

Pavol Demes is Senior Fellow with the German Marshall Fund of the United States in Bratislava. 

WASHINGTON– Political realities facing the leaders of the United States and Iran mean that military confrontation between the two states is a distinct possibility. In late December, the Iranian armed forces conducted a number of war games — which included the live firing of missiles — in the Straits of Hormuz and adjacent waters of the Persian Gulf and the Gulf of Oman. When the aircraft carrier USS John Stennis sailed for a routine repositioning from the Gulf to the North Arabian Sea, Iran told the United States not to return it to the Persian Gulf region. The commander of Iran’s army, General Ataollah Salehi, later reiterated that “The Islamic Republic will not repeat its warning.”

On January 6, three armed patrol boats of the Iranian Revolutionary Guard Corps came within several hundred yards of a U.S. amphibious assault ship, the USS New Orleans. This is precisely the sort of cat-and-mouse games at sea that can lead to serious miscalculations and subsequent escalation. Many Americans will recall that in 1964 a military encounter between North Vietnamese torpedo boats and the USS Maddox resulted in a pitched sea battle, which was enough to persuade the U.S. Congress to pass the Gulf of Tonkin Resolution that gave President Lyndon Johnson authority to begin the massive escalation in Southeast Asia.

In addition to military brinksmanship, covert military action against Iran’s nuclear establishment appears to be increasing. On January 11, the Iranians announced that one of their nuclear scientists had been assassinated in Tehran. They blamed both the United States and Israel though they offered no explicit proof. Some Iranians have publicly called for retaliatory killings. Assassinations and reprisals have long been an important driver in the paths to war. Remember the attempted assassination in London of Israel’s ambassador to the United Kingdom, Shlomo Argov on June 3, 1982? This attack was attributed to the Palestinian Liberation Organization and provided the pretext for Israel’s invasion of Lebanon three days later.

Why might Iran be willing to risk confrontation with the United States at this time? It faces draconian new international sanctions, led by the United States, and if the EU agrees to ban imports of Iranian oil at the end of January, its financial situation will further deteriorate. Its currency is in freefall and the business community appears to be in a state of panic. Even Iran’s great friend China is cutting back on oil purchases. The regime in Tehran also faces the possibility that its closest Middle East ally, Syria, is edging towards civil war and there is a chance that the Bashar al-Assad regime could eventually be ousted. This would radically change the balance of power in the region and undermine other Iranian allies, especially Hezbollah. While Iran has signaled a willingness to return to Turkey for nuclear talks, it has simultaneously blamed the United States for attacks on its people and financial system.

The Obama administration, meanwhile, is being savaged by Republican opponents for appearing weak on Iran, despite warnings that any interference with international traffic through the Straits of Hormuz “will not be tolerated.” When U.S. Secretary of State Hillary Clinton condemned the killing of the Iranian scientist and stated that Washington had played no role in his killing, former Senator and current presidential candidate Rick Santorum stated bluntly that the condemnation was a mistake. Santorum, along with fellow presidential candidates Newt Gingrich and Mitt Romney, have all taken a much harder line on Iran than the White House and, along with Israel’s most right-wing supporters in the United States, are goading the administration to be tougher on Iran, even to the point of launching a military strike against its nuclear facilities.

Given the fragility of the U.S. economy, which seems just on the cusp of recovery, the Obama administration does not want a war with Iran. But the president cannot control or predict Iranian behavior. A truly provocative act by Iran — such as the sinking of a U.S. warship — would force Obama’s hand, especially in an election year, but he must nevertheless resist the temptation to attack Iran’s nuclear facilities. This could only be justified if Iran had provided unambiguous evidence that it was determined to develop a nuclear weapon. Under these circumstances, international support for war would likely be forthcoming.

Geoffrey Kemp is a Senior Fellow with the Transatlantic Academy at the German Marshall Fund of the United States in Washington DC.

Image by the United States Department of Defense.