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FROM THE RASPBERRY PATCH
Under the Snow
Adam Garfinkle
There’s snow
on the raspberry patch these days, and aside from the
changing patterns of bird prints on the frozen surface,
all seems inert within. But plenty is going on: roots
are maturing on composting organic matter and the life
cycles of micro-organisms too numerous to count feed the
process. The quiet is deceptive to the horticulturally
naïve, and can lead them to foolish conclusions.
So it is that, several hundred column inches of
dyspeptic op-ed articles aside, just because the Bush
Administration is not acting part apoplectic, part
apocalyptic over North Korea doesn’t mean that it’s
oblivious to the problem. At the same time, while the
administration tries to explain how North Korea and Iraq
do and do not relate to one another, the hardest case of
the famous "axis of evil", Iran, goes
generally unremarked (of which more below).
The criticisms of the administration’s handling of
North Korea in light of Iraq have been mostly blithering
nonsense. First there is the accusation, pounded from
the block of the axis of evil affair, that North Korea’s
provocative behavior is the administration’s own
fault: the U.S. government threatened the regime, so it
is responding in kind.
This sounds reasonable under one and only one
condition: an almost total absence of thought. It is,
after all, a little hard to understand how Pyongyang’s
decision to violate the 1994 Agreed Framework only a few
months after it was signed could have been stimulated by
a speech given on January 29, 2002. The duplicity of the
North Korean regime long predates the Bush
Administration; if that regime has become more anxious
during the past year, it couldn’t have happened to a
more deserving bunch of guys.
The most common criticism one hears, however, is that
the administration is inconsistently applying its new
military pre-emption policy. Clearly, goes this line of
thinking, Iraq is far less dangerous than North Korea
judging by the far more advanced stage of the latter’s
weapons programs. So why focus on Iraq and soft-peddle
North Korea?
The answer is so obvious that one can barely believe
the apparent rarity of its appreciation: A rogue state’s
passing the nuclear threshold is a big deal. It
sharply raises the stakes of conflict and simultaneously
constrains U.S. options. North Korea’s presumed two
bombs and its missile technology mean that the United
States has no pre-emptive military strategy worth the
risks entailed. To all but the terminally dense, this strengthens
the case for stopping the Ba`ath from getting the
bomb. Who wants to wait until we find ourselves with an
analogous paucity of options in Southwest Asia that we
now face in Northeast Asia?
Nevertheless, intellectual luminaries such as former
Secretary of State Warren Christopher tell us that we
should reverse priorities, caring more about North Korea
(and about finishing off the Al-Qaeda-Taliban threat)
than Iraq. This from a man who served the administration
that watchfully waited until Al-Qaeda could murder
thousands of Americans, and whose temporizing and
timidity allowed the North Korean regime to put itself
beyond practical U.S. military suasion. Suppose we did
that; suppose we just downright cared until our teeth
rattled about North Korea. Would that deliver a
diplomatic breakthrough or give us a military option we
don’t have now?
Cursory judgments as to which rogue proliferators are
"more dangerous" than others make no sense in
the absence of the relevant geographical, historical and
diplomatic context. The administration hasn’t done
such a bad job explaining these differing contexts, but,
alas, those who insist on not listening are pretty hard
to persuade.
Once one appreciates the relevant contexts, it
becomes clear that the operative difference between
North Korea and Iraq is that we can act decisively to
prevent Iraq from becoming a much bigger problem than it
already is, and—without hubris and overreach, and with
maximally feasible allied support—we should do so. Our
Korea options are far more limited, which is one reason
among several for adopting a dispassionate, low-keyed
tone. The administration is wise not to let the North
Koreans define circumstances as a crisis, or as a
bilateral U.S.-North Korean affair. With every
additional spasm of bellicosity, Pyongyang further
irritates and alienates the only countries conceivably
useful to it: China, Russia and, less so, Japan and
South Korea. Such a dynamic may eventually lead to
greater practical cooperation between the United States
and these countries, so why interrupt the spectacle of
North Korean communists publicly chewing on their boots?
Which brings us back to the antics of the axis of
evil. Several commentariat columns of late have
suggested that conservatives are or ought to be sorry
for the President’s axis of evil gaffe in last year’s
State of the Union address. Not only did this language
evoke North Korean hostility, the argument goes, but it
set the administration up to ridicule over the double
standards with which it now approaches the Iraq and
North Korean problems.
Well, I am reasonably grouped into the conservative
camp on these issues, and I am not sorry for the
President’s remark. In the first place, no
administration principal ever said that different evils
must be susceptible to the same instruments of
correction. Anyone who reviews the relevant statements
can see that pre-emption was defined according to a
fairly limited context. It was never claimed to displace
deterrence, but to complement it in extraordinary
circumstances. So this is an embarrassment, or a sign of
inconsistency, only for the consistently obtuse.
At the time of
the axis of evil remark, the most common criticism of it
was that there was no connection between the two Middle
Eastern/Muslim members on the one hand, and North Korea
on the other—hence there was no axis. Now, what have
we learned since? First that Pakistan contributed
extensively to North Korea’s nuclear program, and then
that Yemen is an active customer of North Korean
missiles (and heaven knows what else). No link between
North Korea and the Muslim cauldron of the Middle East
and Southwest Asia? Indeed. Who—tell
me again—should be feeling contrite?
The toughest policy problem before us, however, is
neither Iraq nor North Korea but Iran. Iraq is, or ought
to be, a no-brainer; North Korea is very hard, so we
know that it must be handled with patient but determined
and creative diplomatic care. Iran is a special policy
nightmare, for several mingled reasons.
Most important, Iran’s pursuit of nuclear weapons
has yet to reach a threshold of achievement, so the same
strategic logic that pertains to Iraq—that it is very
much in U.S. interests to keep it below the
nuclear threshold—also pertains to Iran. But Iran is
not in violation of the NPT, IAEA safeguards or any
other related obligation, and it has not been as
obviously bad a neighbor as has Iraq. So neither law nor
political circumstance parallels military-strategic
logic to justify military action.
Within this tension is another for, U.S. action to
keep Iraq below the nuclear threshold would motivate the
Iranians to get above it. Removing the potential Iraqi
nuclear threat might seem to reduce the urgency of Iran’s
quest, but the demonstration of U.S. power and freedom
of action against Iraq would redouble Iran’s
determination to escape an equally vulnerable position.
Looking around the axis of evil these days, the Iranians
would much prefer to hold North Korea’s cards than to
hold Iraq’s. This means that a counter-proliferation
action against Iraq bears pro-proliferation implications
for Iran.
With such tensions come many uncertainties. Some in
the administration see Iran on the verge of
revolutionary change; but almost no expert on Iran
agrees with them. If the Iranian street is close to
overthrowing the Islamic Republic, then any strident
U.S. policy toward Iran could backfire, making
opposition to the present regime seem unpatriotic—and
the administration has avoided such stridency for the
most part. But if the present Iranian regime is not so
threatened, then time is arguably on its side in the
proliferation threshold race, not ours; and too quiet an
American policy could then help the regime. We do not
know which view is correct; nor do we know how U.S.
boots on the ground in Baghdad would affect Iranian
internal political dynamics. Arguments can be made for
several possibilities, but evidence is almost equally
sparse for all of them.
Finally, whatever the administration does with regard
to Iran engages Russian interests and a longstanding
irritant in U.S.-Russian relations: Russian support for
Iranian nuclear projects. As Stephen Sestanovich makes
clear in the current issue of The National Interest (Winter
2002/03), it is an irritant that cannot but affect the
broader evolution of U.S.-Russian relations, and of
course that is important in its own right.
For all these reasons, the range of imaginable U.S.
policies with regard to Iran is wider than is the case
either for Iraq or North Korea. Here the logic of
military pre-emption does apply but, unlike the Iraqi
case, with virtually none of the critical political and
diplomatic context to sustain it as a realistic policy.
If U.S. policy on the Iranian nuclear danger has been
set, it is nowhere obvious what its operative parameters
are.
I‘m not privy to administration thinking about
North Korea, Iraq or Iran. I don’t know how its prime
movers and shakers see the three members of the axis of
evil individually or set against each another. All I
know is what I read in the newspapers—and that’s
enough to mislead anyone. But I’d be surprised if
anything said here had not already crossed the minds of
administration principals, more than once. As with the
raspberry patch this winter, a lot goes on beneath the
soft and quiet snow.
Adam Garfinkle is editor of The National Interest.
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