Going south: militaristic, corrupt
America increasingly resembles a Third World state
by Ximena Ortiz
www.thefreelibrary.com/, December
2009
Despite a change of presidents, America
remains mired in economic, institutional, and cultural purgatory,
with Obama's exalted oratory circling the stratosphere like a
taunt.
Angry nationalism shouts down prudence.
Disproportionate military spending threatens economic wellbeing.
Industry has its hand so deep in the government's purse that private
enterprise is becoming public property. The currency falters,
the infrastructure crumbles. And a supine media, once a watchdog
of the powerful, happily licks the strongman's hand.
If the picture looks familiar, that's
because we've seen it many times before, from Argentina to Chile
to Russia. The U.S. is third worlding.
That statement may smack of hyperbole.
It may also understate the phenomenon, for many of the countries
that the United States increasingly resembles are not only Third
World--they are authoritarian, even rogue.
This is not to say the U.S. will be indistinguishable
from a Third World country any time soon. We're clearly nowhere
near Sudanese levels of violence or Bangladeshi depths of poverty.
But in terms of institutional structure, financial stability,
and even national spirit, the U.S. looks little like the country
it was a generation ago and more like nations it has long condemned.
The turning point came on 9/11. Terrorism
is now a weary concern: other issues dominate the headlines--stimulus,
healthcare, climate change. Yet the attacks were a pretext for
a host of foreign and domestic policies that promised to secure
America against its hell-bent enemies but have instead dragged
the country down, eroding the qualities that distinguished it
from the rest of the world.
Honor Killing
As George W. Bush was fond of doing, Barack
Obama looks penetratingly into the camera, addressing all the
South Asian terrorists watching CNN from their burrows. He vows
to defeat them--using other people's lives.
This emphasis on offended honor--particularly
male honor--is an integral part of life in the Third World. Where
the rule of law is weak, men learn to fend for their own charges,
and humiliation must be quickly avenged to uphold street cred.
This cultural strain exists even among educated elites, who dress
and sound much like their American counterparts, but harbor ingrained
machismo.
A repressive leader quickly realizes that
the best way to unite his countrymen is to rally them against
an outside threat--actual or invented. When Evo Morales became
president of Bolivia, he stoked hostility with Chile, blocking
the construction of a pipeline to export Bolivian natural gas,
at significant cost to his own nation, because it would pass through
Chile. In North Korea, a tradition of defiance and nationalistic
self-reliance, known as juche, is a cultural imperative. If the
regime abandoned its bellicose posturing, its power mystique would
shatter. Across the Muslim world, the pursuit of honor is a crucial
driver in jihadi recruitment. As Akbar Ahmed puts it in Islam
Under Siege, a sense of grievance motivates extremism, but even
"those societies that economists call 'developed' fall back
to notions of honor and revenge in times of crisis." Sept.
11 proved his point.
The fact that 19 misfits with box-cutters
scarcely constituted an invading army was of little consequence--that
anyone could touch us so shocked the American system that we lashed
out with disproportionate fury. When wounded ego drives policy,
force becomes the default. Far from being a passing spasm, this
honor impulse has become a way of life. It rules our international
conduct and makes our wars nearly impossible to quit. Andrew Bacevich,
a former U.S. Army colonel and author of The New American Militarism,
writes, "There was a time in recent memory, most notably
while the so-called Vietnam Syndrome infected the American body
politic, when Republican and Democratic administrations alike
viewed with real trepidation the prospect of sending U.S. stoops
into action abroad. Since the advent of the new Wilsonianism,
self-restraint regarding the use of force has all but disappeared."
As the martial spirit rises, soldiers
are necessarily heroes, even though they are treated as expendable.
Patriotism is defined in militaristic terms. And it's not unusual
for an American president to wear a jacket with "Commander
in Chief" emblazoned across the chest--an only slightly subtler
version of Chavez and Castro couture.
From the Shadows
In countries with a history of authoritarianism,
it is not uncommon for the practiced agitators who presided over
a crisis to hold sway long after they appear to exit power. In
Russia, former president Vladimir Putin rules extra-officially.
In Chile, for years after the transition to democracy, the military
was guaranteed seats in the legislature. In Argentina after the
Dirty War, the army staged rebellions to compel the executive
to limit the scope of prosecutions. Even after a crisis subsides,
much of the population remains in panic mode and supports the
bare-knuckled approach of the previous government.
America is similarly afflicted. Dick Cheney
wields such clout that even after his term ended he gave the order
and previously classified information on "enhanced interrogation"
was made public. His contention that the disclosure proves the
value of those interrogations remains inconclusive, but he demonstrated
his reach.
Barack Obama, for all his pledges of transparency,
has upheld government secrecy to shield the previous administration
and the former vice president in particular. He blocked the release
of the FBI's interview of Cheney in the Valerie Plame case, though
a federal judge recently rejected arguments for keeping the file
sealed. The Obama administration has promoted, through its actions
and its rhetoric, the fiction that post-9/11 abuses were committed
by "bad apple" agents rather than condoned by high-ranking
officials. The Obama and Bush administrations have both sought
to block the release of detainee abuse information. Obama has
also declined to release new pictures of prisoner mistreatment,
breaking his earlier pledge. His Justice Department's investigation
of CIA
CIA: see Central Intelligence Agency.
Here the Third World shames us. There,
when prosecution has been problematic, post-crisis justice has
included truth commissions, which rigorously document abuses (as
in Chile after the transition to democracy) or complement prosecutions
targeting those on the very top (as in Argentina after the Dirty
War). Interestingly, Cheney appears to have cribbed from the Argentine
junta's self-aggrandizing farewell statements. He claims abusive
interrogators risked their lives and "deserve our gratitude"--as
he surely does, too.
Our current president may make pious pronouncements
about America's founding principles, but his actions belie his
luminous words. In a May speech, Obama professed, "I believe
with every fiber of my being that in the long run we also cannot
keep this country safe unless we enlist the power of our most
fundamental values." He then pledged that he would continue
imprisoning detainees who "cannot be prosecuted" for
lack of evidence. And the administration is mounting a legal challenge
to transfer, in effect, Guantanamo to Bagram, making the latter
prison America's primary human warehouse for detainees that the
government holds without charges. In 30 of the 38 Guantanamo-related
habeas corpus cases lower courts have heard since the Supreme
Court's Boumediene decision in 2008, judges have found that the
government lacked credible evidence--the lowest evidentiary burden--to
continue incarceration of detainees.
Do indefinite imprisonments, immunity
for favored agents, and rule by executive diktat sound like best
democratic practice? Crisis-rocked Third World countries eventually
move on, setting up truth commissions and holding trials. But
the United States remains very much in the grip of a 9/11 emergency
mentality.
The War on TV
Writing about the Argentine media during
the Falklands War, Rodolfo Braceli recalled, "The majority
of the media and many notable journalists, more than being submissive
and saving their skin, had a good time. They were not victims.
Nor were they innocents. To say they were not innocents is the
gentlest of ways of saying that they were, also, particularly
culpable .... And there is more to reexamine: submission out of
fear is one thing, and quite another is the genuflection, sugar-coated
and gleeful of complicity. Of the latter there was too much."
We are not much better today. Reporter
Ashley Banfield described coverage of the Iraq War by embedded
reporters: "It was a glorious, wonderful picture that had
a lot of people watching and a lot of advertisers excited about
cable news. But it wasn't journalism, because I'm not so sure
that we in America are hesitant to do this again, to fight another
war, because it looked like a glorious and courageous and so successful,
terrific endeavor."
The U.S. media has long enjoyed an independence
that even its European counterparts, with their strict defamation
laws, don't have. In terms of objectivity and freedom, Third World
media has always been the weaker cousin of America's Fourth Estate.
Journalists do not come from the moneyed class and are routinely
bullied by high-ranking officials who have accrued generations
of privilege.
That independence eroded dramatically
after Sept. 11. Americans tuning in to the evening news saw flags
undulating in the background of war reports, often coupled with
a subtle, flapping sound-effect tying war to patriotism. State
TV it was not--not yet anyway. But just when the media's role
became most critical, it turned uncharacteristically compliant.
Recall May 1, 2003, the "Mission
Accomplished" moment, when coverage sounded more like unmodified
PR than impartial reporting. An equal participant in the pageantry,
CNN informed viewers that Bush had made a "picture-perfect
landing," was greeted by the roar of the seamen's approval,
and had underwater survival training to prepare for his flight.
All that was missing was a reverential bow to "Dear Leader."
Long before the Pentagon discovered embedding,
the Argentine junta selected the journalists allowed into the
Falklands to cover the conflict and checked all news content.
As Stars and Stripes reported in a recent series, the Defense
Department has been following a similar strategy, hiring the Rendon
Group to prepare graded reports on journalists seeking embed positions,
assessing how favorable their coverage has been. (That the Pentagon
continued to use Rendon at all is highly suspect given the group's
disreputable history. Prior to the Iraq War, Rendon promoted million-dollar
contracts to Ahmad Chalabi, who, in turn, forwarded fraudulent
intelligence reports on Iraqi weapons to the Pentagon.)
In September, after the Associated Press
distributed a photo of a dying Marine, Secretary of Defense Robert
Gates attempted to block publication, claiming it would mark an
"unconscionable departure from the restraint most journalists
and publications have shown covering the military since Sept.
11." He was uncharacteristically correct: AP did break from
common practice by showing the reality of the war. Gates's public
rebuke highlights the degree to which the U.S. government is willing
to interfere with journalistic prerogatives--and how little space
remains between us and the Third World nations we condemn for
restricting freedom of press.
After eight years of lost life, money,
and credibility in Afghanistan, the new administration now promotes
the war in a more subdued way. President Obama and General McCrystal
acknowledge steep challenges, but argue there is a "newness"
to the campaign in Afghanistan. It cannot be put into historical
context of any kind. The media and commentariat nod obediently.
The Good War
The armed forces of states such as Russia
and Pakistan enjoy considerable clout and resources, but that
often benefits only the upper tiers, which deploy foot soldiers
with little planning or consideration of risk. In 1996, during
Russia's war with Chechnya, national security adviser Alexander
Lebed admitted that Russian soldiers were "hungry, lice-infested
and underclothed."
Despite the lip service paid to U.S. troops,
they face similar, often life-threatening shortfalls. Recall the
haphazard, bring-your-own-armor approach to the early phase of
the Iraq War. Gen. Anthony Zinni echoed some of Lebed's concerns
when he said of the preparations for the Iraq War, "I saw,
at a minimum, true dereliction, negligence, and irresponsibility;
at worst, lying, incompetence, and corruption."
In September, a former Air Force staff
sergeant working for a private contractor was found dead in a
shower in Baghdad's Green Zone. Adam Vernon Hermanson had served
three tours of duty in Iraq and one in Uzbekistan. A military
medical examiner concluded that he was killed by low-voltage electrocution.
Earlier this year, an electrical expert for the Army Corps of
Engineers, Jim Childs, testified that roughly 90 percent of contractor
KBR's new construction in Iraq was not properly wired. Yet KBR
was paid more than $80 million in bonuses for its electrical work.
To this day, it has not been held accountable for the injuries
and deaths of troops who guarded a toxin-polluted facility that
provided treated water. According to whistleblowers and memos,
KBR knew the facility was contaminated with sodium dichromate,
which is linked to cancer, long before the company informed U.S.
officials. Nearly 1,200 troops were exposed to the substance,
and the Army is refusing to provide most of the injured veterans
with health benefits. But again, KBR received bonuses.
How smoothly our leaders speak of supporting
the troops--only to command them carelessly and forbid them from
leaving when their tours end. To fill its quotas, top brass persists
in the institutional sleight of hand known as "stop loss,"
forcing troops to serve prolonged and serial deployments. Many
who return home scarred will struggle to get care: 37 percent
of Iraq and Afghanistan veterans suffer mental-health issues.
The Marine Corps Times reports that 915,000 unprocessed claims
are waiting at the Department of Veterans Affairs.
Once we followed the Third World into
the strategic cul de sac of relying on force to solve problems,
we needed a deep supply of cannon fodder. And when the democratic
will waned, mercenaries were brought in to make up the difference.
In Afghanistan, they outnumber U.S. troops, with 68,197 contractors
in the theater, 67 percent of the total force. In Iraq, there
is one KBR worker for every three U.S. soldiers.
In tone, President Obama departs from
the Third World approach to problem solving. He outlines a decorous
AfPak policy, calling for development funding, declaring America's
"great respect for the Pakistani people," and stating
that "a campaign against extremism will not succeed with
bullets or bombs alone"--all while ratcheting up violent
confrontation and employing the bluntest instruments of warfare.
He has escalated drone attacks, which have caused significant
civilian deaths, and has requested an increase in funding for
unmanned aircraft.
During his campaign, Obama promised to
raise military spending--as did every other major candidate. He
has kept his word, even though the United States spends more than
all other countries combined on defense. In the CIA's ranking
of military spending as a percentage of GDP. Third World countries
dominate the first 50-plus slots, with the United States in the
middle of the heap at number 28, flanked by Chad and Libya--hardly
flattering company. This disproportionate devotion to military
spending has had profound costs, hastening the country's economic
meltdown.
Bailout of Necessity
In the Third World, crises often beget
ill-considered policies that result in economic blowback--which
in turn breeds further crises. Leaders try to rush their initiatives
before legislatures (where they exist) and the media (where it
is allowed to operate) have a chance to air drawbacks or propose
more moderate alternatives.
This became America's modus operandi after
the banking crisis morphed into a global economic catastrophe.
The U.S. government found itself in an unenviable position: the
treasury had been depleted by two wars, and the American people
had already been called upon to show their patriotic conviction
by shopping. So it resorted to calling for emergency measures
with a huge price tag and, in Third World-style, courted considerable
moral hazard.
Like America today, Argentina in the 1980s
had not recovered economically from its war and the profligacy
of the junta when crisis struck. President Carlos Menem responded
by invoking 472 Decrees of Urgency and Necessity from 1989 to
1998, refining the Third-World art of crony capitalism and state-power
centralization. He used privatization as a form of political patronage,
doling out the country's assets at below-market prices, with no
bidding, or vetting.
Now the U.S. government has passed its
own bipartisan policies of urgency and necessity. In a letter
to congressional leaders shortly before Obama's inauguration,
Larry Summers made the appeal for the second round of TARP funds,
claiming that the need for billions of dollars was "imminent
and urgent." Obama promised to improve TARP's transparency:
"Many of us have been disappointed with the absence of clarity,
the failure to track how the money's been spent." But his
Treasury Department has done the opposite. Moreover, TARP has
overwhelmingly aided the big banks; homeowners have seen scant
relief. The rhetoric is populist, the practice elitist.
It is not only the opacity with which
TARP spoils have been divided that suggests crony capitalism;
the banking sector itself is becoming an oligopoly, less removed
from the Third World's skewed, non-competitive structures than
U.S. citizens would like to admit. TARP, after all, amounts to
small change when compared to the arcane government programs benefiting
the big banks--TLGP, TALF, PPIP: a stew of acronyms incomprehensible
to the citizens who write checks. Banks with more than $100 billion
in assets are borrowing at interest rates 0.34 percentage points
lower than the rest of the industry. In 2007, that difference
was only 0.08 percentage points.
In his book Latin America at the End of
Politics, Forrest Colburn argues that economic turmoil shocked
Third World citizens into accepting a strain of so-called liberalization
that is heavily weighted toward monopolies and maintains chasmic
inequalities in exchange for relative stability. America's bank
rescues have taken on similar dimensions.
As in Menem's Argentina, the Obama administration
has chosen winners and losers. And as the market-distorting impact
of his programs becomes evident and public anger grows, our president
has taken to the bully pulpit to showcase his talent for economic
demagoguery, another well-worn tactic of Third World leaders.
Obama singles out unpopular market actors for scorn, much like
former Malaysian Prime Minister Mahathir Mohamed, who at the end
of the '90s blamed George Soros and other "speculators"
for the collapse of his country's currency. A decade later, the
American president would fault "a small group of speculators"
who endangered "Chrysler's future."
Hector E. Schamis wrote of Menem's maneuvers,
in a passage that now seems prophetic of what would happen in
the U.S., "by colluding with the largest segments of Argentina's
business groups, Menem cemented a minimum winning coalition that
benefited from the economic reform program and provided key political
support. By distributing selective incentives among potential
opponents, he divided and disarticulated rivals."
As in so many collapsed countries, an
increasingly large portion of American wealth goes toward debt.
Infrastructure sags. Only industries favored by the government
thrive. The middle class shrinks as it is squeezed to fund programs
that keep the wealthy comfortable and the poor from rioting. The
only difference is that the U.S. has an ability to continue borrowing--for
now.
Decline and Fall?
The Third Worlding of America is less
cinematic but more serious than empire-in-decline analogies suggest.
After all, Britain no longer wields global supremacy, but it is
still firmly in the First World, its political class scrutinized
by an independent, assertive media. And even after its post-World
War II penury, it did not backpedal on political reforms at home.
This is not to excuse the colonizer's brutality abroad but rather
to distinguish Britain's imperial decline from America's homeland
decay.
The United States has transgressed her
traditions in the fog of war before, only to redeem herself later.
But we are now engaged in a war without borders against a self-multiplying
enemy. There is no army to trounce, so no clear end to the bloodletting
or bankrupting.
The patchouli-scented youth, who protest
in the streets of D.C. with their towering papier-mache effigies,
may have been correct after all in highlighting the breadth of
America's all-encompassing problems--if not their remedies. Crisis
has pushed the U.S. toward Third World policies with alarming
swiftness. But the risk is not that Americans will bring out the
pitchforks and join the protestors. Rather, citizens seem as disaffected
and resigned as their Third World brethren, only occasionally
roused from reality TV by their favorite pundit peddling the outrage
du jour.
The far Right wallows in paranoia with
its dreams of overturning an election by discovering a Kenyan
birth certificate. Most on the Left seem too mesmerized by the
president to hold him accountable. The media ranges from insipid
to hysterical. This country may never see the reasons for--and
the parallels to--its disintegration.
Ximena Ortiz is a former executive editor
of The National Interest and bureau chief for Associated Press-Dow
Jones in Santiago, Chile.
Thirdworldization
of America
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