October 16, 2011
The Threat Matrix and Counterstrike: A Brief Review of Two Books

I recently finished two very different books on terrorism: Garrett Graff’s The Threat Matrix: The FBI at War in the Age of Global Terror, and Eric Schmitt and Thom Shanker’s Counterstrike: The Untold Story of America’s Secret Campaign Against Al Qaeda.  Having finished both within a couple of weeks of each other, it is difficult not to compare them, which is perhaps unfortunate given how unalike they are.

Threat Matrix is essentially a history of three things: the FBI, director Robert Mueller, and change.  Its 600+ pages document in extensive detail the rise of the FBI to prominence, the rise of terrorism as a focus within the FBI, and the necessary changes to the FBI’s culture and practice to cope with the evolving threat of terrorism, as well as Mueller’s life and influence on the agency he runs. 

By comparison, Counterstrike’s relatively short 275ish pages feel like a collection of news stories compiled into one volume, in which chapters or even paragraphs change topic mid-stride, leading to a chaotic if loosely organized tome.  Deterrence, high-profile government leaders, new technologies and approaches, big picture overview and minute detail all struggle to emerge as the driving force of the book.

The books are different in both scope and style.  Threat Matrix is written by a reporter whose background is technology and domestic politics.  As such, accounts of intelligence exploits sometimes take on the breathless feel of a Hollywood blockbuster.  Counterstrike’s authors’ experience writing on national security issues pushes such fluffiness to the side, while also forgoing the political editorializing Graff almost unintentionally throws into the final chapters of his book.

However, perhaps because of their backgrounds, Schmitt and Shanker try to cover almost too much ground for the length of the book.  Nearly each chapter could be a book of its own, which would allow for more detail and - an essential need - better organization.  Rather than having just one agency (and thus one story) to focus on, as is the case with Threat Matrix, Counterstrike attempts to tackle nearly the entire government’s intelligence apparatus as it relates to fighting al-Qaeda.  It’s just a bit too much.

This isn’t to say that either book was lacking in excitement or useful information.  I found Counterstrike interesting, and Threat Matrix fascinating.  In the big picture, through, Counterstrike is probably the more important of the two, particularly as it pushes for further discussion on ways to counter both the methods and the message of al-Qaeda.  Threat Matrix is the story of an agency struggling to catch up, while Counterstrike recounts the ways various agencies are trying to get ahead. 

Perhaps the two most important themes of the latter book emerge near the end: the need for (and slow accomplishment of) close cooperation between the military and various government agencies in a whole-of-government approach to countering terrorism; and the need for adopting what Schmitt and Shanker call a “culture of resilience.”  These two themes are perhaps best exemplified by some quotes from then-Defense Secretary Gates. 

Regarding the multifaceted operation to take out bin Laden, and then to analyze the intelligence treasure trove from his compound, Gates said, “This mission simply would not have been possible before.”  While strikes against bin Laden, Anwar al-Awlaki and the like have occurred under Obama, these successes have largely been the result of years of evolution within the military and the intelligence community that should have started before 9/11, but which required that catastrophe and subsequent wars to show its need.  We’re now getting to the point where we should have been long ago.

But that’s on the government side of things.  On the civilian side - in the media, in domestic politics, in our homes - we are too often paralyzed by fear.  “We’ve created an environment in which politicians are just waiting to jump on each other if there’s a failure,” Gates said, leading to political responses of throwing money at the problem “in order not to look like they’re slacking off.”  Instead, Gates argues, we need a bi-partisan stand to say, as he puts it, “We will not be afraid. […] We will do everything humanly possible.  We will not distort our values.  We will not let them claim victory by changing our way of life and the way we look at the world.”

And yet, the last part of that quote is only partially true, for Gates is also quoted as saying “We appear as a people to be afraid all the time. […] Americans in the past have always been resilient.  I think this is a change for us.  And I wish we could get back to where we were.  We are not a fearful people.”  Schmitt and Shanker echo this later when they that when the terrorists get through our defenses again, as they inevitably will, “the nation must deal with it and return to normal that day, as has been the practice in Israel and Britain.”  To put it another way, if the purpose of terrorism is to terrorize, and we stop allowing ourselves to be terrified, then terrorism will become an unsuccessful and self-defeating strategy.

If there is a common theme (other than terrorism) between these two books, it is the need to adapt to the fight.  That means changing political culture within agencies, tweaking tactics and strategies, and adding strength to society’s outlook.  With the recent spate of books on terrorism hitting the market lately - Ali Soufan’s The Black Banners: The Inside Story of 9/11 and the War Against al-Qaeda and Dana Priest and William Arkin’s Top Secret America: The Rise of the New American Security State are next on my personal reading list - perhaps as a country we’ll get a better picture both of where we’ve come from, and where we should go to adapt properly.  Threat Matrix and Counterstrike have opened small windows onto how to view that goal.

October 11, 2011
Eliminating Terrorist Leadership

As I read Stratfor’s assessment of the “fallout” from Awlaki’s death, along with Gregory Johnsen’s latest post explaining why, coming from the perspective of a Yemen scholar*, he doesn’t think Anwar al-Awlaki’s killing will be that useful for either the US or Yemen, I’ve been thinking about the impact of eliminating terrorist leadership.  No doubt, this is partially spurred on as well by Eric Schmitt and Thom Shanker’s book Counterstrike, which I am in the midst of reading, as a key theme of that book is the over-emphasis by the Bush administration on the capture-or-kill strategy as the only method of quashing al-Qaeda.

Throughout all this, I am reminded of Audrey Kurth Cronin’s chapter “How terrorist campaigns end” in Horgan and Bjorgo’s Leaving Terrorism Behind.  (Cronin now has a book out on the subject, appropriately titled How Terrorism Ends: Understanding the Decline and Demise of Terrorist Campaigns.)

Cronin argues that there are “at least seven broad explanations or critical elements in the decline and ending of terrorist groups in the modern era,” which include:

  1. The capture or killing of the leader
  2. Failure to transition to the next generation
  3. Achievement of the group’s aims
  4. Transition to a legitimate political process
  5. Undermining of popular support
  6. Repression
  7. Transitioning from terrorism to other forms of violence

A handy table in the chapter provides examples of each, while acknowledging that the categories may overlap.  Interestingly enough, the ones in the capture/kill column tend to not be the groups one immediately conjures up when thinking about terrorism: Shining Path, Real IRA, and Aum Shinrikyo.  No, the bigger ones tend to fall into other categories, like the Provisional IRA and the PLO in the transition to a legitimate political process, or Abu Sayyaf’s transition toward criminality.

While noting that the capture or killing of a leader produces mixed results based on a wide number of factors, Cronin also points out that “the event normally provides critical insight into the depth and nature of the group’s popular support and usually represents a turning point.”  Later, Cronin argues that for counter-terrorism, killing a leader “can sometimes backfire, resulting in increased publicity for the group’s cause and perhaps the creation of a martyr who attracts new members to the organization (or even subsequent organizations),” while also eliminating the possibility of essentially shaming the leader and the group through public arrest and trial.

There’s several things to think about as this pertains to al-Qaeda and Awlaki, but here’s a few rough thoughts:

  1. Unlike what could happen with the Taliban, I don’t see the US allowing al-Qaeda to transition to a legitimate political organization (and it’s sure going to try its hardest to prevent al-Qaeda from achieving its goals).  The focus is going to remain the capture-or-kill strategy, with the war-of-ideas backup that is going to push for undermining popular support, while hoping al-Qaeda can’t make the jump to the next generation.  (I’ll take “al-Qaeda is irrelevant because of the Arab Spring” for 400, Alex.)
  2. AQAP could transition to another form of violence, just as al-Qaeda in Iraq largely transitioned to insurgency.  I don’t really see that happening, but it could; I’m not sure if would have that much of an effect on US policies towards AQAP or Yemen.
  3. Just as killing a leader offers crucial insight into a group’s popular support, so killing a leader offers crucial insight into his effect on the organization.  While AQAP’s English-language propaganda is likely to take a hit, I think we are going to see through AQAP’s continuing operations just how tangential Awlaki was to the overall movement.  To put it another way, Johnsen is right in pointing out that Nasir al-Wihayshi - the leader of AQAP, and bin Laden’s former secretary - didn’t need Awlaki to make him want to attack the US, and he didn’t need Awlaki’s “terrorist expertise” to make the attacks happen.
  4. While killing Awlaki could backfire - it will undoubtedly make him a martyr - on the whole it’s probably better for the US that he’s gone, even if he’s not that important overall.  It’s true that, as I said before, his death might provide his words a new platform.  It’s also true that he would have been of greater intelligence value if he could have been taken alive, and probably greater propaganda value as well.  He’s no longer able to directly influence potential terrorists through personal communication, though, and he was certainly a threat to the US.

On the whole, it’s important to remember that Awlaki is but one page in the story.  As Cronin writes:

Understanding how terrorist campaigns meet their demise is important not only so as to recognize classic patterns of ending when they appear, but also to formulate and adapt intelligent policies that push them towards the end.  Policies that fail to understand the lifespans of groups, that treat them as if they were immortal, are destined to prolong the dynamics of terrorist campaigns.

In a sense, we made Awlaki “immortal” (or at least infamous) to such a degree that we needed to then eliminate him.  Moving on past his death is probably the best way to make the most of it.

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* Johnsen makes an important distinction in his post about the differences between “legal scholars, al-Qaeda watchers, and observers of Yemen.”  Their views are going to be different, a fact that is too often skimmed over, both in the media and by this blog.