Iran will doch keine Schiffe in den Gaza-Streifen schicken

Umstrittener Hilfskonvoi
Iran will doch keine Schiffe in den Gaza-Streifen schicken

Der Rückzieher kam spät: Zwei Tage vor dem geplanten Auslaufen eines iranischen Schiffes mit Hilfsgütern für den Gaza-Streifen, hat Teheran die Aktion abgeblasen. Die Begründung: Man wolle "diese Art von humanitärer Hilfe nicht politisch aufladen".

Teheran - Die Entscheidung dürfte die Wogen im Konflikt mit Israel glätten: Entgegen früheren Ankündigungen will Iran nun doch kein Schiff mit Hilfslieferungen in den Gaza-Streifen senden. "Die Reise wird nicht stattfinden", sagte der Generalsekretär einer vom iranischen Parlament gegründeten Unterstützerorganisation für die Palästinenser, Hossein Scheicholeslam, am Freitag laut der iranischen Nachrichtenagentur Irna.

Die iranische Sektion der Hilfsorganisation Roter Halbmond hatte Anfang Juni angekündigt, insgesamt zwei Schiffe mit Helfern und Hilfsgütern zum Gaza-Streifen schicken zu wollen. Ursprünglich hätte das erste Schiff am Sonntag auslaufen sollen. Israel hatte Teheran aber eindringlich davor gewarnt, die Fracht auf die Reise zu schicken.

Iran begründete seinen Rückzieher nun mit diplomatischem Einlenken: "Wir wollen diese Art von humanitärer Hilfe nicht politisch aufladen", sagte Scheicholeslam. Die Regierung in Jerusalem habe aus der Blockade des Gaza-Streifens eine "politische Angelegenheit" gemacht. "Das wichtigste ist es für uns, die Blockade zu durchbrechen." Die Hilfslieferung werde den Bewohnern des Gaza-Streifens nun "mit anderen Mittel" gebracht, sagte Scheicholeslam.

Am 31. Mai hatten israelische Soldaten bei einer Militäraktion im Mittelmeer eine internationale Hilfsflotte für den Gaza-Streifen gestürmt und dabei neun pro-palästinensische Aktivisten getötet. Diese Aktion hatte Israel heftige Kritik eingebracht.

Inzwischen hat Israel die Blockade des Gaza-Streifens gelockert und sogar europäische Außenminister in das Palästinensergebiet eingeladen.

Spiegel Online

Europa muss Schuld der Hamas an Gaza-Misere erkennen

Europa muss Schuld der Hamas an Gaza-Misere erkennen

Die europäischen Außenminister können sich bei ihrer Reise davon überzeugen, wer das Leid in Gaza verursacht: Die Hamas, und nicht Israel.

von Clemens Wergin

Selbst im israelischen Außenministerium war man überrascht, als der Chef Avigdor Lieberman ankündigte, einer Gruppe von sechs europäischen Außenministern die Einreise nach Gaza zu gestatten. Das ist zwar als Ad-hoc-Maßnahme gedacht und nicht als generelle Öffnung.

Aber es schafft auch einen Präzedenzfall. Lieberman möchte, dass sich die Minister selbst ein Bild machen, um Mythenbildung in Europa vorzubeugen. Tatsächlich gibt es die viel beschworene humanitäre Krise so nicht. Die Menschen in Gaza haben genug zu essen, und die Märkte sind voll. Die Krise besteht vielmehr in der fehlenden Perspektive.

Die Hamas ist für die Situation in Gaza verantwortlich

Die Tunnelökonomie ist so ineffizient, dass sie kaum wirtschaftliche Entwicklung ermöglicht. Entsprechend viele Palästinenser sind arbeitslos und leben von der internationalen Gemeinschaft. Die seit Jahrzehnten exorbitant hohe Geburtenrate tut ein Übriges.

Die momentane Trostlosigkeit in Gaza ist aber vor allem der Hamas zuzuschreiben. Sie befindet sich nach eigenem Bekunden weiter im Kriegszustand mit Israel und lehnt die Osloer Verträge genauso ab wie das Existenzrecht Israels. Die Hamas-Regierung möchte beides: Sie will bei ihrer ideologischen Halsstarrigkeit bleiben und gleichzeitig offene Grenzen haben.

In der Praxis heißt das: Man fordert freie Grenzübergänge, will aber die israelischen Grenzbeamten – wie in der Vergangenheit mehrfach geschehen – auch angreifen, wenn sich die Gelegenheit ergibt. Man will, dass die Israelis palästinensische Produkte passieren lassen und auch kaufen, um die Wirtschaft in Gaza anzukurbeln, gleichzeitig behält sich die Hamas vor, genau dieselben Israelis auch weiter mit Terror zu überziehen.

Das ist eine offensichtlich absurde Position. Deshalb tun Europas Politiker gut daran, sich gelegentlich daran zu erinnern, wer wirklich für die verfahrene Situation in Gaza verantwortlich ist.

Welt Online

Das BP-Inferno im Golf von Mexico

Afghanistan: "Who is the enemy?"

Böse Amis, arme Mullahs

Kommentar vom 28.03.2007. Der Aktualität halber.

Böse Amis, arme Mullahs

Von Claus Christian Malzahn

48 Prozent der Deutschen halten die USA für gefährlicher als Iran - nur 31 Prozent glauben das Gegenteil. Das Ergebnis entspricht der deutschen Grundverlogenheit. Höchste Zeit für eine Neuauflage von Re-Education.


Die USA - Gefahr für den Weltfrieden? US-Flagge über dem ehemaligen World Trade Center

Die Deutschen haben im Laufe ihrer jüngeren Geschichte schon an vieles geglaubt. An Kolonien in Afrika und an den Kaiser; dem glaubten sie sogar, das es keine Parteien mehr gebe, sondern nur noch Frontsoldaten. Wenig später glaubten sie, dass man Juden in Ghettos und KZs stecken sollte, weil sie Volksschädlinge sind. Dann glaubten sie an die Autobahn und den Endsieg und wieder ein paar Jahre später an die D-Mark. Sie glaubten daran, dass die Mauer noch ewig steht und dass die Rente sicher ist. Sie glaubten an Mülltrennung und Billigflüge, an Telekom-Aktien und den Fußball-WM-Sieg, sie glauben sogar gleichzeitig an Peter Hahne und Harald Schmidt.

Im Moment glauben sie, dass die USA für den Weltfrieden gefährlicher sind als Iran. Das ergab eine Forsa-Umfrage im Auftrag des "Stern". Besonders die jungen Deutschen - 57 Prozent der 18- bis 29-Jährigen - erklärten, sie hielten die USA für bedrohlicher als das religiöse Regime in Iran. Das Ergebnis kommt keineswegs überraschend.

Die offizielle deutsche Politik, die das Ergebnis der Umfrage heftig beweinen wird, hat den Antiamerikanismus größtenteils verursacht. Jahrelang wurde den Deutschen von ihren Außenministern das Märchen vom "kritischen Dialog" zwischen Europa und Iran erzählt. Es ging etwa so: Wenn wir nett zu den Ajatollahs sind, ein bisschen mit ihnen knuddeln und ab und zu mit dem Finger "DuDuDu" machen, dann hören sie auf, ihre Frauen wegen "unkeuschen Verhaltens" zum Tode zu verurteilen und die Atombombe zu bauen. Irgendwie ging der Plan schief, was man in Washington übrigens lange vorher ahnte. Iran bastelt unverdrossen am nuklearen Programm, der Präsident Mahmud Ahmadinedschad reagiert auf Uno-Beschlüsse mit demonstrativer Ignoranz. Die Uno ist dann böse und verfasst eine Resolution.

Ansonsten wünscht sich der iranische Präsident die Auslöschung Israels. Das dauert noch ein bisschen. Um nicht aus der Übung zu kommen ließ das Regime vor ein paar Tagen 15 britische Soldaten kidnappen. Aber schuld sind immer die Amis, ist ja klar. Über die wissen wir schon lange Bescheid.

Den Wilden Westen kennen wir von Karl May, den wilden Kapitalismus von Karl Marx. Außerdem waren wir alle schon mal da, im Urlaub, versteht sich. Ob Kalifornien oder Florida (da sind die Mietwagen am billigsten): die Amis haben wir durchschaut. Die Amerikaner sind uns Deutschen entweder zu fett oder zu sportbesessen, zu prüde oder zu pornografisch, zu religiös oder zu nihilistisch. Die Amis sind in der Geschichte entweder zu isolationistisch oder zu imperialistisch aufgetreten, sie überfallen einfach fremde Länder (was wir natürlich nie tun würden) - und hauen dann einfach wieder ab, wie in Vietnam und demnächst im Irak. Besonders schlimm: Die Amerikaner haben 1945 den Krieg gewonnen. (Wenn auch nur mit deutscher Hilfe, Einstein und so). Den V-Day in Europa werden einige Deutsche den Amerikanern nie verzeihen; denn der Nationalsozialismus war ja bloß ein Betriebsunfall, der Ami aber an sich ist böse. Sieht man ja bei Präsident Bush, der, daran glauben auch manche unserer Leser täglich felsenfest, "schlimmer ist als Hitler". Da schlagen wir zwei Fliegen mit einer Klappe: Denn wenn Bush der neue Hitler ist, dann sind wir Deutschen Hitler endlich los. Wir brauchen ihm dann nicht mal mehr nachträglich die deutsche Staatsbürgerschaft abzuerkennen, wie das gerade die SPD-Landtagsfraktion in Niedersachsen vorgeschlagen hat. Unseren Symbolismus macht uns keiner nach!

Antiamerikanismus ist das Wundermittel der deutschen Politik. Wenn Dir keiner mehr was glaubt - hau einfach auf die Amis drauf, dann fährst Du in den Beliebtheitsumfragen nach oben wie im Turbolift. Das Praktische daran ist: Man kann sich als SPD-Chef mit antiamerikanischem Unsinn ins Herz der Partei schrödern und wird trotzdem wieder nach Washington eingeladen. Man kann sich dabei sogar als militärische Doppel-Nulll outen, der von einem Ex-Nato-General "nahezu unglaubliche Unkenntnis" bescheinigt wird - macht nichts. Es geht ja um Glauben, nicht um Wissen.

Antiamerikanismus ist prima bigott. Man kann sich abends die neuesten Folgen von "24" reinziehen und am nächsten Morgen über Guantanamo klagen. Man kann behaupten, die Amis seien am Terrorismus selber schuld - und gleichzeitig eine restriktive Einwanderungspolitik gegenüber Muslimen in Deutschland fordern. Man kann den amerikanischen Präsidenten einen Massenmörder nennen und am nächsten Tag einen Flug nach New York buchen, man kann über die vermeintliche Kultur- und Bindungslosigkeit des amerikanischen Durchschnittsbürgers lamentieren und sich am nächsten Tag die Unterlagen für die Green-Card-Lotterie kommen lassen. Es vergeht kein Tag in Deutschland, an dem über die USA nicht die wildesten Behauptungen, die übelsten Schmähungen, die wahnsinnigsten Verschwörungstheorien verbreitet werden - aber das ist alles kostenlos und dient vor allem der deutschen Selbstgerechtigkeit.

Mit Iran ist das anders. Als beim letzten Mal im deutschen Fernsehen ein Scherz über eine iranische Führungsfigur gemacht worden ist, ging das böse aus. Vor genau 20 Jahren produzierte der holländische Entertainer Rudi Carell einen kurzen TV-Gag, in dem Ajatollah Khomeini in Damenunterwäsche herumwühlte. Carell bekam Morddrohungen. Der nur wenige Sekunden dauernde Spot führte zur Ausweisung deutscher Diplomaten aus Teheran, Flüge wurden gecancelt. Carell entschuldigte sich. Witze über dicke Amis sind einfach sicherer.

Der amerikanische Historiker Daniel Jonah Goldhagen, der den Deutschen vor etwa elf Jahren den Glauben raubte, sie hätten damals weiter nix gewusst, beschäftigt sich zur Zeit mit der Geschichte von Genoziden im 20 Jahrhundert. Dabei fiel ihm auf, dass diejenigen Politiker oder Militärs, die einen Völkermord planten und in die Tat umsetzen ließen, ihre Absichten vorher selten verheimlicht hatten. Ob Hereros, Armenier, Kulaken, Juden oder später Bosniaken die Opfer waren - die Täter sahen sich meist im Recht und keinen Grund, ihre Mordlust zu verschleiern. Wenn der iranische Präsident Achmadinedschad heute von einer Welt ohne Israel und gleichzeitig einer Atombombe träumt, könnte man - gerade als Deutscher - eigentlich eins und eins zusammenzählen. Warum sollte Achmadinedschad eigentlich nicht meinen, was er sagt? Aber wir Deutschen wissen nur, was wir glauben.

Die Amis gefährlicher als die Ajatollahs? Vielleicht sollten die Amerikaner die Deutschen zur Abwechslung beim Wort nehmen. Höchste Zeit für eine neue Runde Re-Education. Die letzte hat nicht gereicht.

Spiegel Online

Obama feuert "The Runaway General" McChrystal

The Runaway General
Stanley McChrystal, Obama's top commander in Afghanistan, has seized control of the war by never taking his eye off the real enemy: The wimps in the White House

By Michael Hastings
Jun 22, 2010 10:00 AM EDT

This article appears in RS 1108/1109 from July 8-22, 2010, on newsstands Friday, June 25.


'How'd I get screwed into going to this dinner?" demands Gen. Stanley McChrystal. It's a Thursday night in mid-April, and the commander of all U.S. and NATO forces in Afghanistan is sitting in a four-star suite at the Hôtel Westminster in Paris. He's in France to sell his new war strategy to our NATO allies – to keep up the fiction, in essence, that we actually have allies. Since McChrystal took over a year ago, the Afghan war has become the exclusive property of the United States. Opposition to the war has already toppled the Dutch government, forced the resignation of Germany's president and sparked both Canada and the Netherlands to announce the withdrawal of their 4,500 troops. McChrystal is in Paris to keep the French, who have lost more than 40 soldiers in Afghanistan, from going all wobbly on him.

"The dinner comes with the position, sir," says his chief of staff, Col. Charlie Flynn.

McChrystal turns sharply in his chair.

"Hey, Charlie," he asks, "does this come with the position?"

McChrystal gives him the middle finger.

The general stands and looks around the suite that his traveling staff of 10 has converted into a full-scale operations center. The tables are crowded with silver Panasonic Toughbooks, and blue cables crisscross the hotel's thick carpet, hooked up to satellite dishes to provide encrypted phone and e-mail communications. Dressed in off-the-rack civilian casual – blue tie, button-down shirt, dress slacks – McChrystal is way out of his comfort zone. Paris, as one of his advisers says, is the "most anti-McChrystal city you can imagine." The general hates fancy restaurants, rejecting any place with candles on the tables as too "Gucci." He prefers Bud Light Lime (his favorite beer) to Bordeaux, Talladega Nights (his favorite movie) to Jean-Luc Godard. Besides, the public eye has never been a place where McChrystal felt comfortable: Before President Obama put him in charge of the war in Afghanistan, he spent five years running the Pentagon's most secretive black ops.

"What's the update on the Kandahar bombing?" McChrystal asks Flynn. The city has been rocked by two massive car bombs in the past day alone, calling into question the general's assurances that he can wrest it from the Taliban.

"We have two KIAs, but that hasn't been confirmed," Flynn says.

McChrystal takes a final look around the suite. At 55, he is gaunt and lean, not unlike an older version of Christian Bale in Rescue Dawn. His slate-blue eyes have the unsettling ability to drill down when they lock on you. If you've fucked up or disappointed him, they can destroy your soul without the need for him to raise his voice.

"I'd rather have my ass kicked by a roomful of people than go out to this dinner," McChrystal says.

He pauses a beat.

"Unfortunately," he adds, "no one in this room could do it."

With that, he's out the door.

"Who's he going to dinner with?" I ask one of his aides.

"Some French minister," the aide tells me. "It's fucking gay."

The next morning, McChrystal and his team gather to prepare for a speech he is giving at the École Militaire, a French military academy. The general prides himself on being sharper and ballsier than anyone else, but his brashness comes with a price: Although McChrystal has been in charge of the war for only a year, in that short time he has managed to piss off almost everyone with a stake in the conflict. Last fall, during the question-and-answer session following a speech he gave in London, McChrystal dismissed the counterterrorism strategy being advocated by Vice President Joe Biden as "shortsighted," saying it would lead to a state of "Chaos-istan." The remarks earned him a smackdown from the president himself, who summoned the general to a terse private meeting aboard Air Force One. The message to McChrystal seemed clear: Shut the fuck up, and keep a lower profile

Now, flipping through printout cards of his speech in Paris, McChrystal wonders aloud what Biden question he might get today, and how he should respond. "I never know what's going to pop out until I'm up there, that's the problem," he says. Then, unable to help themselves, he and his staff imagine the general dismissing the vice president with a good one-liner.

"Are you asking about Vice President Biden?" McChrystal says with a laugh. "Who's that?"

"Biden?" suggests a top adviser. "Did you say: Bite Me?"

When Barack Obama entered the Oval Office, he immediately set out to deliver on his most important campaign promise on foreign policy: to refocus the war in Afghanistan on what led us to invade in the first place. "I want the American people to understand," he announced in March 2009. "We have a clear and focused goal: to disrupt, dismantle and defeat Al Qaeda in Pakistan and Afghanistan." He ordered another 21,000 troops to Kabul, the largest increase since the war began in 2001. Taking the advice of both the Pentagon and the Joint Chiefs of Staff, he also fired Gen. David McKiernan – then the U.S. and NATO commander in Afghanistan – and replaced him with a man he didn't know and had met only briefly: Gen. Stanley McChrystal. It was the first time a top general had been relieved from duty during wartime in more than 50 years, since Harry Truman fired Gen. Douglas MacArthur at the height of the Korean War.

Even though he had voted for Obama, McChrystal and his new commander in chief failed from the outset to connect. The general first encountered Obama a week after he took office, when the president met with a dozen senior military officials in a room at the Pentagon known as the Tank. According to sources familiar with the meeting, McChrystal thought Obama looked "uncomfortable and intimidated" by the roomful of military brass. Their first one-on-one meeting took place in the Oval Office four months later, after McChrystal got the Afghanistan job, and it didn't go much better. "It was a 10-minute photo op," says an adviser to McChrystal. "Obama clearly didn't know anything about him, who he was. Here's the guy who's going to run his fucking war, but he didn't seem very engaged. The Boss was pretty disappointed.

From the start, McChrystal was determined to place his personal stamp on Afghanistan, to use it as a laboratory for a controversial military strategy known as counterinsurgency. COIN, as the theory is known, is the new gospel of the Pentagon brass, a doctrine that attempts to square the military's preference for high-tech violence with the demands of fighting protracted wars in failed states. COIN calls for sending huge numbers of ground troops to not only destroy the enemy, but to live among the civilian population and slowly rebuild, or build from scratch, another nation's government – a process that even its staunchest advocates admit requires years, if not decades, to achieve. The theory essentially rebrands the military, expanding its authority (and its funding) to encompass the diplomatic and political sides of warfare: Think the Green Berets as an armed Peace Corps. In 2006, after Gen. David Petraeus beta-tested the theory during his "surge" in Iraq, it quickly gained a hardcore following of think-tankers, journalists, military officers and civilian officials. Nicknamed "COINdinistas" for their cultish zeal, this influential cadre believed the doctrine would be the perfect solution for Afghanistan. All they needed was a general with enough charisma and political savvy to implement it.

As McChrystal leaned on Obama to ramp up the war, he did it with the same fearlessness he used to track down terrorists in Iraq: Figure out how your enemy operates, be faster and more ruthless than everybody else, then take the fuckers out. After arriving in Afghanistan last June, the general conducted his own policy review, ordered up by Defense Secretary Robert Gates. The now-infamous report was leaked to the press, and its conclusion was dire: If we didn't send another 40,000 troops – swelling the number of U.S. forces in Afghanistan by nearly half – we were in danger of "mission failure." The White House was furious. McChrystal, they felt, was trying to bully Obama, opening him up to charges of being weak on national security unless he did what the general wanted. It was Obama versus the Pentagon, and the Pentagon was determined to kick the president's ass.

Last fall, with his top general calling for more troops, Obama launched a three-month review to re-evaluate the strategy in Afghanistan. "I found that time painful," McChrystal tells me in one of several lengthy interviews. "I was selling an unsellable position." For the general, it was a crash course in Beltway politics – a battle that pitted him against experienced Washington insiders like Vice President Biden, who argued that a prolonged counterinsurgency campaign in Afghanistan would plunge America into a military quagmire without weakening international terrorist networks. "The entire COIN strategy is a fraud perpetuated on the American people," says Douglas Macgregor, a retired colonel and leading critic of counterinsurgency who attended West Point with McChrystal. "The idea that we are going to spend a trillion dollars to reshape the culture of the Islamic world is utter nonsense.

In the end, however, McChrystal got almost exactly what he wanted. On December 1st, in a speech at West Point, the president laid out all the reasons why fighting the war in Afghanistan is a bad idea: It's expensive; we're in an economic crisis; a decade-long commitment would sap American power; Al Qaeda has shifted its base of operations to Pakistan. Then, without ever using the words "victory" or "win," Obama announced that he would send an additional 30,000 troops to Afghanistan, almost as many as McChrystal had requested. The president had thrown his weight, however hesitantly, behind the counterinsurgency crowd.

Today, as McChrystal gears up for an offensive in southern Afghanistan, the prospects for any kind of success look bleak. In June, the death toll for U.S. troops passed 1,000, and the number of IEDs has doubled. Spending hundreds of billions of dollars on the fifth-poorest country on earth has failed to win over the civilian population, whose attitude toward U.S. troops ranges from intensely wary to openly hostile. The biggest military operation of the year – a ferocious offensive that began in February to retake the southern town of Marja – continues to drag on, prompting McChrystal himself to refer to it as a "bleeding ulcer." In June, Afghanistan officially outpaced Vietnam as the longest war in American history – and Obama has quietly begun to back away from the deadline he set for withdrawing U.S. troops in July of next year. The president finds himself stuck in something even more insane than a quagmire: a quagmire he knowingly walked into, even though it's precisely the kind of gigantic, mind-numbing, multigenerational nation-building project he explicitly said he didn't want.

Even those who support McChrystal and his strategy of counterinsurgency know that whatever the general manages to accomplish in Afghanistan, it's going to look more like Vietnam than Desert Storm. "It's not going to look like a win, smell like a win or taste like a win," says Maj. Gen. Bill Mayville, who serves as chief of operations for McChrystal. "This is going to end in an argument."

The night after his speech in Paris, McChrystal and his staff head to Kitty O'Shea's, an Irish pub catering to tourists, around the corner from the hotel. His wife, Annie, has joined him for a rare visit: Since the Iraq War began in 2003, she has seen her husband less than 30 days a year. Though it is his and Annie's 33rd wedding anniversary, McChrystal has invited his inner circle along for dinner and drinks at the "least Gucci" place his staff could find. His wife isn't surprised. "He once took me to a Jack in the Box when I was dressed in formalwear," she says with a laugh.

The general's staff is a handpicked collection of killers, spies, geniuses, patriots, political operators and outright maniacs. There's a former head of British Special Forces, two Navy Seals, an Afghan Special Forces commando, a lawyer, two fighter pilots and at least two dozen combat veterans and counterinsurgency experts. They jokingly refer to themselves as Team America, taking the name from the South Park-esque sendup of military cluelessness, and they pride themselves on their can-do attitude and their disdain for authority. After arriving in Kabul last summer, Team America set about changing the culture of the International Security Assistance Force, as the NATO-led mission is known. (U.S. soldiers had taken to deriding ISAF as short for "I Suck at Fighting" or "In Sandals and Flip-Flops.") McChrystal banned alcohol on base, kicked out Burger King and other symbols of American excess, expanded the morning briefing to include thousands of officers and refashioned the command center into a Situational Awareness Room, a free-flowing information hub modeled after Mayor Mike Bloomberg's offices in New York. He also set a manic pace for his staff, becoming legendary for sleeping four hours a night, running seven miles each morning, and eating one meal a day. (In the month I spend around the general, I witness him eating only once.) It's a kind of superhuman narrative that has built up around him, a staple in almost every media profile, as if the ability to go without sleep and food translates into the possibility of a man single-handedly winning the war.

By midnight at Kitty O'Shea's, much of Team America is completely shitfaced. Two officers do an Irish jig mixed with steps from a traditional Afghan wedding dance, while McChrystal's top advisers lock arms and sing a slurred song of their own invention. "Afghanistan!" they bellow. "Afghanistan!" They call it their Afghanistan song.

McChrystal steps away from the circle, observing his team. "All these men," he tells me. "I'd die for them. And they'd die for me."

The assembled men may look and sound like a bunch of combat veterans letting off steam, but in fact this tight-knit group represents the most powerful force shaping U.S. policy in Afghanistan. While McChrystal and his men are in indisputable command of all military aspects of the war, there is no equivalent position on the diplomatic or political side. Instead, an assortment of administration players compete over the Afghan portfolio: U.S. Ambassador Karl Eikenberry, Special Representative to Afghanistan Richard Holbrooke, National Security Advisor Jim Jones and Secretary of State Hillary Clinton, not to mention 40 or so other coalition ambassadors and a host of talking heads who try to insert themselves into the mess, from John Kerry to John McCain. This diplomatic incoherence has effectively allowed McChrystal's team to call the shots and hampered efforts to build a stable and credible government in Afghanistan. "It jeopardizes the mission," says Stephen Biddle, a senior fellow at the Council on Foreign Relations who supports McChrystal. "The military cannot by itself create governance reform."

Part of the problem is structural: The Defense Department budget exceeds $600 billion a year, while the State Department receives only $50 billion. But part of the problem is personal: In private, Team McChrystal likes to talk shit about many of Obama's top people on the diplomatic side. One aide calls Jim Jones, a retired four-star general and veteran of the Cold War, a "clown" who remains "stuck in 1985." Politicians like McCain and Kerry, says another aide, "turn up, have a meeting with Karzai, criticize him at the airport press conference, then get back for the Sunday talk shows. Frankly, it's not very helpful." Only Hillary Clinton receives good reviews from McChrystal's inner circle. "Hillary had Stan's back during the strategic review," says an adviser. "She said, 'If Stan wants it, give him what he needs.' "

McChrystal reserves special skepticism for Holbrooke, the official in charge of reintegrating the Taliban. "The Boss says he's like a wounded animal," says a member of the general's team. "Holbrooke keeps hearing rumors that he's going to get fired, so that makes him dangerous. He's a brilliant guy, but he just comes in, pulls on a lever, whatever he can grasp onto. But this is COIN, and you can't just have someone yanking on shit."

At one point on his trip to Paris, McChrystal checks his BlackBerry. "Oh, not another e-mail from Holbrooke," he groans. "I don't even want to open it." He clicks on the message and reads the salutation out loud, then stuffs the BlackBerry back in his pocket, not bothering to conceal his annoyance.

"Make sure you don't get any of that on your leg," an aide jokes, referring to the e-mail.

By far the most crucial – and strained – relationship is between McChrystal and Eikenberry, the U.S. ambassador. According to those close to the two men, Eikenberry – a retired three-star general who served in Afghanistan in 2002 and 2005 – can't stand that his former subordinate is now calling the shots. He's also furious that McChrystal, backed by NATO's allies, refused to put Eikenberry in the pivotal role of viceroy in Afghanistan, which would have made him the diplomatic equivalent of the general. The job instead went to British Ambassador Mark Sedwill – a move that effectively increased McChrystal's influence over diplomacy by shutting out a powerful rival. "In reality, that position needs to be filled by an American for it to have weight," says a U.S. official familiar with the negotiations.

The relationship was further strained in January, when a classified cable that Eikenberry wrote was leaked to The New York Times. The cable was as scathing as it was prescient. The ambassador offered a brutal critique of McChrystal's strategy, dismissed President Hamid Karzai as "not an adequate strategic partner," and cast doubt on whether the counterinsurgency plan would be "sufficient" to deal with Al Qaeda. "We will become more deeply engaged here with no way to extricate ourselves," Eikenberry warned, "short of allowing the country to descend again into lawlessness and chaos."

McChrystal and his team were blindsided by the cable. "I like Karl, I've known him for years, but they'd never said anything like that to us before," says McChrystal, who adds that he felt "betrayed" by the leak. "Here's one that covers his flank for the history books. Now if we fail, they can say, 'I told you so.' "

The most striking example of McChrystal's usurpation of diplomatic policy is his handling of Karzai. It is McChrystal, not diplomats like Eikenberry or Holbrooke, who enjoys the best relationship with the man America is relying on to lead Afghanistan. The doctrine of counterinsurgency requires a credible government, and since Karzai is not considered credible by his own people, McChrystal has worked hard to make him so. Over the past few months, he has accompanied the president on more than 10 trips around the country, standing beside him at political meetings, or shuras, in Kandahar. In February, the day before the doomed offensive in Marja, McChrystal even drove over to the president's palace to get him to sign off on what would be the largest military operation of the year. Karzai's staff, however, insisted that the president was sleeping off a cold and could not be disturbed. After several hours of haggling, McChrystal finally enlisted the aid of Afghanistan's defense minister, who persuaded Karzai's people to wake the president from his nap.

This is one of the central flaws with McChrystal's counterinsurgency strategy: The need to build a credible government puts us at the mercy of whatever tin-pot leader we've backed – a danger that Eikenberry explicitly warned about in his cable. Even Team McChrystal privately acknowledges that Karzai is a less-than-ideal partner. "He's been locked up in his palace the past year," laments one of the general's top advisers. At times, Karzai himself has actively undermined McChrystal's desire to put him in charge. During a recent visit to Walter Reed Army Medical Center, Karzai met three U.S. soldiers who had been wounded in Uruzgan province. "General," he called out to McChrystal, "I didn't even know we were fighting in Uruzgan!"

Growing up as a military brat, McChrystal exhibited the mixture of brilliance and cockiness that would follow him throughout his career. His father fought in Korea and Vietnam, retiring as a two-star general, and his four brothers all joined the armed services. Moving around to different bases, McChrystal took solace in baseball, a sport in which he made no pretense of hiding his superiority: In Little League, he would call out strikes to the crowd before whipping a fastball down the middle.

McChrystal entered West Point in 1972, when the U.S. military was close to its all-time low in popularity. His class was the last to graduate before the academy started to admit women. The "Prison on the Hudson," as it was known then, was a potent mix of testosterone, hooliganism and reactionary patriotism. Cadets repeatedly trashed the mess hall in food fights, and birthdays were celebrated with a tradition called "rat fucking," which often left the birthday boy outside in the snow or mud, covered in shaving cream. "It was pretty out of control," says Lt. Gen. David Barno, a classmate who went on to serve as the top commander in Afghanistan from 2003 to 2005. The class, filled with what Barno calls "huge talent" and "wild-eyed teenagers with a strong sense of idealism," also produced Gen. Ray Odierno, the current commander of U.S. forces in Iraq.

The son of a general, McChrystal was also a ringleader of the campus dissidents – a dual role that taught him how to thrive in a rigid, top-down environment while thumbing his nose at authority every chance he got. He accumulated more than 100 hours of demerits for drinking, partying and insubordination – a record that his classmates boasted made him a "century man." One classmate, who asked not to be named, recalls finding McChrystal passed out in the shower after downing a case of beer he had hidden under the sink. The troublemaking almost got him kicked out, and he spent hours subjected to forced marches in the Area, a paved courtyard where unruly cadets were disciplined. "I'd come visit, and I'd end up spending most of my time in the library, while Stan was in the Area," recalls Annie, who began dating McChrystal in 1973.

McChrystal wound up ranking 298 out of a class of 855, a serious underachievement for a man widely regarded as brilliant. His most compelling work was extracurricular: As managing editor of The Pointer, the West Point literary magazine, McChrystal wrote seven short stories that eerily foreshadow many of the issues he would confront in his career. In one tale, a fictional officer complains about the difficulty of training foreign troops to fight; in another, a 19-year-old soldier kills a boy he mistakes for a terrorist. In "Brinkman's Note," a piece of suspense fiction, the unnamed narrator appears to be trying to stop a plot to assassinate the president. It turns out, however, that the narrator himself is the assassin, and he's able to infiltrate the White House: "The President strode in smiling. From the right coat pocket of the raincoat I carried, I slowly drew forth my 32-caliber pistol. In Brinkman's failure, I had succeeded."

After graduation, 2nd Lt. Stanley McChrystal entered an Army that was all but broken in the wake of Vietnam. "We really felt we were a peacetime generation," he recalls. "There was the Gulf War, but even that didn't feel like that big of a deal." So McChrystal spent his career where the action was: He enrolled in Special Forces school and became a regimental commander of the 3rd Ranger Battalion in 1986. It was a dangerous position, even in peacetime – nearly two dozen Rangers were killed in training accidents during the Eighties. It was also an unorthodox career path: Most soldiers who want to climb the ranks to general don't go into the Rangers. Displaying a penchant for transforming systems he considers outdated, McChrystal set out to revolutionize the training regime for the Rangers. He introduced mixed martial arts, required every soldier to qualify with night-vision goggles on the rifle range and forced troops to build up their endurance with weekly marches involving heavy backpacks.

In the late 1990s, McChrystal shrewdly improved his inside game, spending a year at Harvard's Kennedy School of Government and then at the Council on Foreign Relations, where he co-authored a treatise on the merits and drawbacks of humanitarian interventionism. But as he moved up through the ranks, McChrystal relied on the skills he had learned as a troublemaking kid at West Point: knowing precisely how far he could go in a rigid military hierarchy without getting tossed out. Being a highly intelligent badass, he discovered, could take you far – especially in the political chaos that followed September 11th. "He was very focused," says Annie. "Even as a young officer he seemed to know what he wanted to do. I don't think his personality has changed in all these years."



By some accounts, McChrystal's career should have been over at least two times by now. As Pentagon spokesman during the invasion of Iraq, the general seemed more like a White House mouthpiece than an up-and-coming commander with a reputation for speaking his mind. When Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld made his infamous "stuff happens" remark during the looting of Baghdad, McChrystal backed him up. A few days later, he echoed the president's Mission Accomplished gaffe by insisting that major combat operations in Iraq were over. But it was during his next stint – overseeing the military's most elite units, including the Rangers, Navy Seals and Delta Force – that McChrystal took part in a cover-up that would have destroyed the career of a lesser man.

After Cpl. Pat Tillman, the former-NFL-star-turned-Ranger, was accidentally killed by his own troops in Afghanistan in April 2004, McChrystal took an active role in creating the impression that Tillman had died at the hands of Taliban fighters. He signed off on a falsified recommendation for a Silver Star that suggested Tillman had been killed by enemy fire. (McChrystal would later claim he didn't read the recommendation closely enough – a strange excuse for a commander known for his laserlike attention to minute details.) A week later, McChrystal sent a memo up the chain of command, specifically warning that President Bush should avoid mentioning the cause of Tillman's death. "If the circumstances of Corporal Tillman's death become public," he wrote, it could cause "public embarrassment" for the president.

"The false narrative, which McChrystal clearly helped construct, diminished Pat's true actions," wrote Tillman's mother, Mary, in her book Boots on the Ground by Dusk. McChrystal got away with it, she added, because he was the "golden boy" of Rumsfeld and Bush, who loved his willingness to get things done, even if it included bending the rules or skipping the chain of command. Nine days after Tillman's death, McChrystal was promoted to major general.

Two years later, in 2006, McChrystal was tainted by a scandal involving detainee abuse and torture at Camp Nama in Iraq. According to a report by Human Rights Watch, prisoners at the camp were subjected to a now-familiar litany of abuse: stress positions, being dragged naked through the mud. McChrystal was not disciplined in the scandal, even though an interrogator at the camp reported seeing him inspect the prison multiple times. But the experience was so unsettling to McChrystal that he tried to prevent detainee operations from being placed under his command in Afghanistan, viewing them as a "political swamp," according to a U.S. official. In May 2009, as McChrystal prepared for his confirmation hearings, his staff prepared him for hard questions about Camp Nama and the Tillman cover-up. But the scandals barely made a ripple in Congress, and McChrystal was soon on his way back to Kabul to run the war in Afghanistan.

The media, to a large extent, have also given McChrystal a pass on both controversies. Where Gen. Petraeus is kind of a dweeb, a teacher's pet with a Ranger's tab, McChrystal is a snake-eating rebel, a "Jedi" commander, as Newsweek called him. He didn't care when his teenage son came home with blue hair and a mohawk. He speaks his mind with a candor rare for a high-ranking official. He asks for opinions, and seems genuinely interested in the response. He gets briefings on his iPod and listens to books on tape. He carries a custom-made set of nunchucks in his convoy engraved with his name and four stars, and his itinerary often bears a fresh quote from Bruce Lee. ("There are no limits. There are only plateaus, and you must not stay there, you must go beyond them.") He went out on dozens of nighttime raids during his time in Iraq, unprecedented for a top commander, and turned up on missions unannounced, with almost no entourage. "The fucking lads love Stan McChrystal," says a British officer who serves in Kabul. "You'd be out in Somewhere, Iraq, and someone would take a knee beside you, and a corporal would be like 'Who the fuck is that?' And it's fucking Stan McChrystal."

It doesn't hurt that McChrystal was also extremely successful as head of the Joint Special Operations Command, the elite forces that carry out the government's darkest ops. During the Iraq surge, his team killed and captured thousands of insurgents, including Abu Musab al-Zarqawi, the leader of Al Qaeda in Iraq. "JSOC was a killing machine," says Maj. Gen. Mayville, his chief of operations. McChrystal was also open to new ways of killing. He systematically mapped out terrorist networks, targeting specific insurgents and hunting them down – often with the help of cyberfreaks traditionally shunned by the military. "The Boss would find the 24-year-old kid with a nose ring, with some fucking brilliant degree from MIT, sitting in the corner with 16 computer monitors humming," says a Special Forces commando who worked with McChrystal in Iraq and now serves on his staff in Kabul. "He'd say, 'Hey – you fucking muscleheads couldn't find lunch without help. You got to work together with these guys.' "

Even in his new role as America's leading evangelist for counterinsurgency, McChrystal retains the deep-seated instincts of a terrorist hunter. To put pressure on the Taliban, he has upped the number of Special Forces units in Afghanistan from four to 19. "You better be out there hitting four or five targets tonight," McChrystal will tell a Navy Seal he sees in the hallway at headquarters. Then he'll add, "I'm going to have to scold you in the morning for it, though." In fact, the general frequently finds himself apologizing for the disastrous consequences of counterinsurgency. In the first four months of this year, NATO forces killed some 90 civilians, up 76 percent from the same period in 2009 – a record that has created tremendous resentment among the very population that COIN theory is intent on winning over. In February, a Special Forces night raid ended in the deaths of two pregnant Afghan women and allegations of a cover-up, and in April, protests erupted in Kandahar after U.S. forces accidentally shot up a bus, killing five Afghans. "We've shot an amazing number of people," McChrystal recently conceded.

Despite the tragedies and miscues, McChrystal has issued some of the strictest directives to avoid civilian casualties that the U.S. military has ever encountered in a war zone. It's "insurgent math," as he calls it – for every innocent person you kill, you create 10 new enemies. He has ordered convoys to curtail their reckless driving, put restrictions on the use of air power and severely limited night raids. He regularly apologizes to Hamid Karzai when civilians are killed, and berates commanders responsible for civilian deaths. "For a while," says one U.S. official, "the most dangerous place to be in Afghanistan was in front of McChrystal after a 'civ cas' incident." The ISAF command has even discussed ways to make not killing into something you can win an award for: There's talk of creating a new medal for "courageous restraint," a buzzword that's unlikely to gain much traction in the gung-ho culture of the U.S. military.

But however strategic they may be, McChrystal's new marching orders have caused an intense backlash among his own troops. Being told to hold their fire, soldiers complain, puts them in greater danger. "Bottom line?" says a former Special Forces operator who has spent years in Iraq and Afghanistan. "I would love to kick McChrystal in the nuts. His rules of engagement put soldiers' lives in even greater danger. Every real soldier will tell you the same thing."

In March, McChrystal traveled to Combat Outpost JFM – a small encampment on the outskirts of Kandahar – to confront such accusations from the troops directly. It was a typically bold move by the general. Only two days earlier, he had received an e-mail from Israel Arroyo, a 25-year-old staff sergeant who asked McChrystal to go on a mission with his unit. "I am writing because it was said you don't care about the troops and have made it harder to defend ourselves," Arroyo wrote.

Within hours, McChrystal responded personally: "I'm saddened by the accusation that I don't care about soldiers, as it is something I suspect any soldier takes both personally and professionally – at least I do. But I know perceptions depend upon your perspective at the time, and I respect that every soldier's view is his own." Then he showed up at Arroyo's outpost and went on a foot patrol with the troops – not some bullshit photo-op stroll through a market, but a real live operation in a dangerous war zone.

Six weeks later, just before McChrystal returned from Paris, the general received another e-mail from Arroyo. A 23-year-old corporal named Michael Ingram – one of the soldiers McChrystal had gone on patrol with – had been killed by an IED a day earlier. It was the third man the 25-member platoon had lost in a year, and Arroyo was writing to see if the general would attend Ingram's memorial service. "He started to look up to you," Arroyo wrote. McChrystal said he would try to make it down to pay his respects as soon as possible.

The night before the general is scheduled to visit Sgt. Arroyo's platoon for the memorial, I arrive at Combat Outpost JFM to speak with the soldiers he had gone on patrol with. JFM is a small encampment, ringed by high blast walls and guard towers. Almost all of the soldiers here have been on repeated combat tours in both Iraq and Afghanistan, and have seen some of the worst fighting of both wars. But they are especially angered by Ingram's death. His commanders had repeatedly requested permission to tear down the house where Ingram was killed, noting that it was often used as a combat position by the Taliban. But due to McChrystal's new restrictions to avoid upsetting civilians, the request had been denied. "These were abandoned houses," fumes Staff Sgt. Kennith Hicks. "Nobody was coming back to live in them."



One soldier shows me the list of new regulations the platoon was given. "Patrol only in areas that you are reasonably certain that you will not have to defend yourselves with lethal force," the laminated card reads. For a soldier who has traveled halfway around the world to fight, that's like telling a cop he should only patrol in areas where he knows he won't have to make arrests. "Does that make any fucking sense?" asks Pfc. Jared Pautsch. "We should just drop a fucking bomb on this place. You sit and ask yourself: What are we doing here?"

The rules handed out here are not what McChrystal intended – they've been distorted as they passed through the chain of command – but knowing that does nothing to lessen the anger of troops on the ground. "Fuck, when I came over here and heard that McChrystal was in charge, I thought we would get our fucking gun on," says Hicks, who has served three tours of combat. "I get COIN. I get all that. McChrystal comes here, explains it, it makes sense. But then he goes away on his bird, and by the time his directives get passed down to us through Big Army, they're all fucked up – either because somebody is trying to cover their ass, or because they just don't understand it themselves. But we're fucking losing this thing."

McChrystal and his team show up the next day. Underneath a tent, the general has a 45-minute discussion with some two dozen soldiers. The atmosphere is tense. "I ask you what's going on in your world, and I think it's important for you all to understand the big picture as well," McChrystal begins. "How's the company doing? You guys feeling sorry for yourselves? Anybody? Anybody feel like you're losing?" McChrystal says.

"Sir, some of the guys here, sir, think we're losing, sir," says Hicks.

McChrystal nods. "Strength is leading when you just don't want to lead," he tells the men. "You're leading by example. That's what we do. Particularly when it's really, really hard, and it hurts inside." Then he spends 20 minutes talking about counterinsurgency, diagramming his concepts and principles on a whiteboard. He makes COIN seem like common sense, but he's careful not to bullshit the men. "We are knee-deep in the decisive year," he tells them. The Taliban, he insists, no longer has the initiative – "but I don't think we do, either." It's similar to the talk he gave in Paris, but it's not winning any hearts and minds among the soldiers. "This is the philosophical part that works with think tanks," McChrystal tries to joke. "But it doesn't get the same reception from infantry companies."

During the question-and-answer period, the frustration boils over. The soldiers complain about not being allowed to use lethal force, about watching insurgents they detain be freed for lack of evidence. They want to be able to fight – like they did in Iraq, like they had in Afghanistan before McChrystal. "We aren't putting fear into the Taliban," one soldier says.

"Winning hearts and minds in COIN is a coldblooded thing," McChrystal says, citing an oft-repeated maxim that you can't kill your way out of Afghanistan. "The Russians killed 1 million Afghans, and that didn't work."

"I'm not saying go out and kill everybody, sir," the soldier persists. "You say we've stopped the momentum of the insurgency. I don't believe that's true in this area. The more we pull back, the more we restrain ourselves, the stronger it's getting."

"I agree with you," McChrystal says. "In this area, we've not made progress, probably. You have to show strength here, you have to use fire. What I'm telling you is, fire costs you. What do you want to do? You want to wipe the population out here and resettle it?"

A soldier complains that under the rules, any insurgent who doesn't have a weapon is immediately assumed to be a civilian. "That's the way this game is," McChrystal says. "It's complex. I can't just decide: It's shirts and skins, and we'll kill all the shirts."

As the discussion ends, McChrystal seems to sense that he hasn't succeeded at easing the men's anger. He makes one last-ditch effort to reach them, acknowledging the death of Cpl. Ingram. "There's no way I can make that easier," he tells them. "No way I can pretend it won't hurt. No way I can tell you not to feel that. . . . I will tell you, you're doing a great job. Don't let the frustration get to you." The session ends with no clapping, and no real resolution. McChrystal may have sold President Obama on counterinsurgency, but many of his own men aren't buying it.



When it comes to Afghanistan, history is not on McChrystal's side. The only foreign invader to have any success here was Genghis Khan – and he wasn't hampered by things like human rights, economic development and press scrutiny. The COIN doctrine, bizarrely, draws inspiration from some of the biggest Western military embarrassments in recent memory: France's nasty war in Algeria (lost in 1962) and the American misadventure in Vietnam (lost in 1975). McChrystal, like other advocates of COIN, readily acknowledges that counterinsurgency campaigns are inherently messy, expensive and easy to lose. "Even Afghans are confused by Afghanistan," he says. But even if he somehow manages to succeed, after years of bloody fighting with Afghan kids who pose no threat to the U.S. homeland, the war will do little to shut down Al Qaeda, which has shifted its operations to Pakistan. Dispatching 150,000 troops to build new schools, roads, mosques and water-treatment facilities around Kandahar is like trying to stop the drug war in Mexico by occupying Arkansas and building Baptist churches in Little Rock. "It's all very cynical, politically," says Marc Sageman, a former CIA case officer who has extensive experience in the region. "Afghanistan is not in our vital interest – there's nothing for us there."

In mid-May, two weeks after visiting the troops in Kandahar, McChrystal travels to the White House for a high-level visit by Hamid Karzai. It is a triumphant moment for the general, one that demonstrates he is very much in command – both in Kabul and in Washington. In the East Room, which is packed with journalists and dignitaries, President Obama sings the praises of Karzai. The two leaders talk about how great their relationship is, about the pain they feel over civilian casualties. They mention the word "progress" 16 times in under an hour. But there is no mention of victory. Still, the session represents the most forceful commitment that Obama has made to McChrystal's strategy in months. "There is no denying the progress that the Afghan people have made in recent years – in education, in health care and economic development," the president says. "As I saw in the lights across Kabul when I landed – lights that would not have been visible just a few years earlier."

It is a disconcerting observation for Obama to make. During the worst years in Iraq, when the Bush administration had no real progress to point to, officials used to offer up the exact same evidence of success. "It was one of our first impressions," one GOP official said in 2006, after landing in Baghdad at the height of the sectarian violence. "So many lights shining brightly." So it is to the language of the Iraq War that the Obama administration has turned – talk of progress, of city lights, of metrics like health care and education. Rhetoric that just a few years ago they would have mocked. "They are trying to manipulate perceptions because there is no definition of victory – because victory is not even defined or recognizable," says Celeste Ward, a senior defense analyst at the RAND Corporation who served as a political adviser to U.S. commanders in Iraq in 2006. "That's the game we're in right now. What we need, for strategic purposes, is to create the perception that we didn't get run off. The facts on the ground are not great, and are not going to become great in the near future."

But facts on the ground, as history has proven, offer little deterrent to a military determined to stay the course. Even those closest to McChrystal know that the rising anti-war sentiment at home doesn't begin to reflect how deeply fucked up things are in Afghanistan. "If Americans pulled back and started paying attention to this war, it would become even less popular," a senior adviser to McChrystal says. Such realism, however, doesn't prevent advocates of counterinsurgency from dreaming big: Instead of beginning to withdraw troops next year, as Obama promised, the military hopes to ramp up its counterinsurgency campaign even further. "There's a possibility we could ask for another surge of U.S. forces next summer if we see success here," a senior military official in Kabul tells me.

Back in Afghanistan, less than a month after the White House meeting with Karzai and all the talk of "progress," McChrystal is hit by the biggest blow to his vision of counterinsurgency. Since last year, the Pentagon had been planning to launch a major military operation this summer in Kandahar, the country's second-largest city and the Taliban's original home base. It was supposed to be a decisive turning point in the war – the primary reason for the troop surge that McChrystal wrested from Obama late last year. But on June 10th, acknowledging that the military still needs to lay more groundwork, the general announced that he is postponing the offensive until the fall. Rather than one big battle, like Fallujah or Ramadi, U.S. troops will implement what McChrystal calls a "rising tide of security." The Afghan police and army will enter Kandahar to attempt to seize control of neighborhoods, while the U.S. pours $90 million of aid into the city to win over the civilian population.

Even proponents of counterinsurgency are hard-pressed to explain the new plan. "This isn't a classic operation," says a U.S. military official. "It's not going to be Black Hawk Down. There aren't going to be doors kicked in." Other U.S. officials insist that doors are going to be kicked in, but that it's going to be a kinder, gentler offensive than the disaster in Marja. "The Taliban have a jackboot on the city," says a military official. "We have to remove them, but we have to do it in a way that doesn't alienate the population." When Vice President Biden was briefed on the new plan in the Oval Office, insiders say he was shocked to see how much it mirrored the more gradual plan of counterterrorism that he advocated last fall. "This looks like CT-plus!" he said, according to U.S. officials familiar with the meeting.

Whatever the nature of the new plan, the delay underscores the fundamental flaws of counterinsurgency. After nine years of war, the Taliban simply remains too strongly entrenched for the U.S. military to openly attack. The very people that COIN seeks to win over – the Afghan people – do not want us there. Our supposed ally, President Karzai, used his influence to delay the offensive, and the massive influx of aid championed by McChrystal is likely only to make things worse. "Throwing money at the problem exacerbates the problem," says Andrew Wilder, an expert at Tufts University who has studied the effect of aid in southern Afghanistan. "A tsunami of cash fuels corruption, delegitimizes the government and creates an environment where we're picking winners and losers" – a process that fuels resentment and hostility among the civilian population. So far, counterinsurgency has succeeded only in creating a never-ending demand for the primary product supplied by the military: perpetual war. There is a reason that President Obama studiously avoids using the word "victory" when he talks about Afghanistan. Winning, it would seem, is not really possible. Not even with Stanley McChrystal in charge.

This article appears in in RS 1108/1109 from July 8-22, 2010, on newsstands Friday, June 25.

Rolling Stone

Irans Regime: Geschwächt und hasserfüllt nach den UN-Sanktionen

Atomstreit
Teheran in der Schlinge

Nach sieben Jahren erfolgloser Gespräche haben die Großmächte die Geduld mit dem Iran verloren. Die Sanktionen könnten wirken
Von Pierre Simonitsch

Lästige "Schmeißfliegen" und "verrotzte Taschentücher, die im Mülleimer landen", nannte der iranische Präsident Mahmud Ahmadinedschad die neuen Sanktionen, die der UN-Sicherheitsrat am Mittwoch gegen den Iran verhängt hat. Ist Ahmadinedschad wirklich so siegessicher, wie er vorgibt? Wenn die Sanktionen der Islamischen Republik nichts anhaben können, so muss man sich fragen, warum Teheran dann alle Register zog, sie zu verhindern.

Brasilien, die Türkei und andere unentschlossene Mitglieder des UN-Sicherheitsrats wurden vom Iran eindringlich umworben. Uganda boten die Iraner an, brachliegende Bodenschätze wie Uranerz gemeinsam zu schürfen. Russland und China, die ein Vetorecht im Sicherheitsrat haben, kamen in den Genuss einer Intensivbehandlung. Moskau verbat sich schließlich das Drängen, und es kam zum offenen Streit.

Auch die Chinesen ließen die Iraner ins Leere laufen. Am kommenden Wochenende wollte Ahmadinedschad in Peking aufkreuzen und den chinesischen Führern nochmals ins Gewissen reden. Doch die rasche Verabschiedung der Sanktionen durchkreuzte die Reisepläne des iranischen Präsidenten. Er muss sich jetzt mit einem Besuch der Weltausstellung in Schanghai begnügen.

Das sind viele Misserfolge in kurzer Zeit. Auch der bewährte Trick, vor jeder drohenden Sanktionsrunde vage Zugeständnisse anzubieten, zieht nicht mehr. Nach sieben Jahren erfolgloser Verhandlungen haben die Großmächte die Geduld verloren. Die endlosen Gespräche verschafften den Iranern nur Zeit, ihr offensichtlich militärischen Zwecken dienendes Nuklearprogramm voranzutreiben.

Ob Sanktionen bessere Resultate bringen oder kontraproduktiv sind, wird derzeit ausgiebig diskutiert. Auf jeden Fall erhöhen sie den Preis, den die Machthaber in Teheran für Atomwaffen bezahlen müssen, und sie erschweren die Entwicklung der Bombe. Die Kunst bei Sanktionen besteht darin, die einfachen Menschen und insbesondere die Mittelschicht zu schonen, die im Iran die Opposition stellt. Daher wurde das von den USA geplante Benzinembargo fallengelassen.

Politische Isolation und wirtschaftliche Abschnürung

Die vom Sicherheitsrat beschlossenen Sanktionen sind von einseitigen Maßnahmen wie dem "Iran Sanctions Act" der USA und der Suspendierung der Gespräche über ein Handelsabkommen zwischen der EU und dem Iran flankiert. Die USA drohen jedem Strafen an, der mit iranischen Firmen auf dem Nuklear-, Erdöl- oder Bankensektor kooperiert. Multis verlassen daher den Iran oder erfüllen nur noch die alten Kontrakte.

Mangels Ersatzteilen sind viele iranische Ölraffinerien außer Betrieb. Das Land muss mindestens 20 Prozent seines Treibstoffbedarfs einführen. Die Boeings und Airbusse der iranischen Zivilluftfahrt sind nur zum Teil flugtüchtig. Auf westeuropäischen Flughäfen dürfen die meisten wegen des Sicherheitsrisikos nicht landen.

Die Vereinigten Arabischen Emirate planen, die regionale Handelsdrehscheibe Dubai für den Iran zu schließen. An dieser inoffiziellen Außenstelle der iranischen Wirtschaft sind derzeit über 8000 iranische Unternehmen aktiv. Die würzigen Sprüche Ahmadinedschads können nicht darüber hinwegtäuschen, dass die politische Isolation und wirtschaftliche Abschnürung dem Regime schwer zu schaffen machen.

Frankfurter Rundschau

--------------

Russland legt Rüstungsgeschäft mit dem Iran auf Eis

MOSKAU: Russland verzichtet wegen der neuen UN-Sanktionen gegen den Iran auf ein vor zwei Jahren mit Teheran vereinbartes Rüstungsgeschäft. Auch die geplante Lieferung russischer Luftabwehrraketen vom Typ S-300 sei von den Strafmaßnahmen betroffen, teilte der Kreml mit. Mit dem Abwehrsystem wollte Teheran seine Atomanlagen vor möglichen Angriffen schützen. Der russische Regierungschef Wladimir Putin äußerte die Befürchtung, dass der Verzicht auf das Geschäft für sein Land teuer werden könnte. So dürfte der Iran versuchen, Konventionalstrafen wegen Nicht-Erfüllung des entsprechenden Vertrages zu verhängen, sagte Putin am Rande eines Treffens mit Frankreichs Präsident Nicolas Sarkozy in Paris. - Der UN-Sicherheitsrat hatte in dieser Woche auch mit der Stimme Russlands neue Sanktionen gegen den Iran wegen dessen Atomprogramms verhängt. Danach dürfen künftig keine Panzer, Raketen oder Kreuzer mehr an Teheran verkauft werden.

DW-World.de

Podcast: Iran ein Jahr danach

Muslime: Mehr Religiosität = mehr Gewaltbereitschaft

Muslime
Mehr Religiosität = mehr Gewaltbereitschaft

Eine Studie hat herausgefunden: Je religiöser islamische Migranten sind, umso weniger integriert und gewalttätig sind sie. Die Politik ist alarmiert.



Die Ergebnisse dürften erhebliche Diskussionen unter den Migranten in Deutschland und in ihren Verbänden auslösen – und zugleich Wasser auf die Mühlen von Islamkritikern sein. Der Kriminologe Christian Pfeiffer stellt deshalb vorsichtshalber klar: „Ich bringe nur Fakten an den Tag.“

2007 und 2008 befragten die Wissenschaftler um Pfeiffer rund 45.000 Schüler im Alter von 14 bis 16 Jahren. Sie wollten unter anderem herausfinden, welche Rolle die Religion im Leben der jungen Menschen, vor allem von Migranten, spielt. Das Resultat: Junge, männliche Muslime sind – im Gegensatz zu christlichen Jugendlichen – umso weniger integriert und umso gewalttätiger, je gläubiger sie sind.

Die höchste Gewalttäter-Quote gibt es demnach unter „sehr religiösen“ muslimischen Jugendlichen mit 23,5 Prozent, die niedrigste dagegen bei den „etwas religiösen“ mit 19,6 Prozent.

Bei evangelischen und katholischen Jugendlichen zeigte sich eine gegenläufige Tendenz: Christliche Gläubige begingen der Studie zufolge seltener jugendtypische Gewalttaten. Dies gelte gerade auch für christliche Zuwanderer, die meist aus Polen oder der Ex-Sowjetunion stammten.

So sinke bei jungen christlichen Migranten die Quote der Gewalttäter von 21,8 Prozent bei nichtreligiösen Jugendlichen auf 12,4 Prozent bei sehr religiösen Jugendlichen. Sehr religiöse türkische Migranten haben zudem nur zu 21,7 Prozent deutsche Freunde, besuchen nur zu 11,5 Prozent das Gymnasium und fühlen sich nur zu 14,5 Prozent als Deutsche, ergab die Studie – obwohl die befragten jungen Türken ganz überwiegend in Deutschland geboren seien.
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Bei nicht-religiösen türkischen Jugendlichen sieht es dagegen anders aus: Zu mehr als 43 Prozent sind sie mit deutschen Jugendlichen befreundet. Sie streben zu rund 22 Prozent das Abitur an, mehr als die Hälfte fühle sich als Deutsche.

Von der Deutlichkeit der Ergebnisse ist Pfeiffer selbst überrascht. Er geht davon aus, dass muslimische Geistliche eine Rolle spielen. Dabei stützt er sich auf Studien des türkischstämmigen Religionswissenschaftlers Rauf Ceylan, der das Selbstverständnis und die Arbeit türkischer Imame untersucht hat.

Die meisten der 2000 Imame in Deutschland sind demnach im Ausland geprägt worden. Die Mehrheit sei konservativ und sehr autoritär geprägt. Pfeiffer glaubt, dass sie entsprechende Werte an Jugendliche vermitteln.

Die neue niedersächsische Sozial- und Integrationsministerin Aygül Özkan (CDU) forderte am Wochenende bessere Integrationshilfen für Jungen aus Migrantenfamilien. „Wenn frühe Religiosität zu Jugendproblemen führt, brauchen wir Mechanismen, die früh eingreifen“, sagte die Ministerin: „Dann muss man beispielsweise in den Moscheen schauen, wie besonders Jugendliche auf dem festen Boden des Grundgesetzes ihre Religion ausüben können.“

Pfeiffer wiederum hält es für denkbar, dass die Befunde mit einem wachsenden Misstrauen von Deutschen gegenüber dem Islam seit den Anschlägen vom 11. September 2001 zusammenhängen könnten und die Jugendlichen auf dieses Misstrauen reagieren. Junge Muslime, die sichtbar weniger religiös seien, würden wohl auch eher von Deutschen akzeptiert.

„Ich sage ausdrücklich, das ist kein Problem des Islam, sondern der Vermittlung des Islam“, betont Pfeiffer. Es müssten aber Konsequenzen gezogen werden. Pfeiffer fordert, dass Imame in Deutschland nur arbeiten dürfen, wenn sie die deutsche Sprache beherrschen, Kenntnisse der deutschen Kultur haben und die im Grundgesetz verankerte Gleichberechtigung von Mann und Frau akzeptieren.

Andernfalls müsse ihnen die Einreise ins Land verweigert werden. Pfeiffer sieht auch die muslimischen Gemeinden in der Pflicht. „Sie müssen selbst ein Interesse daran haben, Imame zu bekommen, die in Deutschland verankert sind.“

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