North America

I didn't have a chance to comment on the revelations that foreign-policy insider Peter Galbraith received a 5 percent stake in an oil field in the Dohak region of Iraqi Kurdistan, for his role in helping the Norwegian oil company DNO negotiate drilling rights there. Galbraith was also involved in the constitutional negotiations that gave the Kurds substantial autonomy over the region and thus made the proposed deal possible, and the Times reports that he could make roughly $100 million or so for his efforts.

Not surprisingly, the exposure of Galbraith's dealings has caused some controversy in Iraq, though remarkably little in Washington  One of the Iraqi participants said "the idea that an oil company was participating in the drafting of the Iraqi Constitution leaves me speechless," and the whole business is bound to reinforce the widespread (and in my view, false) belief that the 2003 invasion of Iraq was a "war for oil. " 

Galbraith is publicly unrepentant, arguing that his deal with DNO was arranged while he was a private citizen and declaring that "What is true is that I undertook business activities that were entirely consistent with my long-held policy views. . . I believe my work with [DNO and other companies] helped create the Kurdistan oil industry which helps provide Kurdistan an economic base for the autonomy its people almost unanimously desire. . . So, while I may have had interests, I see no conflict."

Of course, as a number of other critics quickly pointed out, the problem is not that Galbraith is in line to receive millions of dollars in compensation; the problem is that he failed to disclose his financial interests while he was busy writing op-eds and articles and engaging in other public activities on behalf of Kurdish autonomy. His behavior is no different than a medical researcher who takes millions of dollars from a pharmeceutical company and then writes articles or offers expert testimony about the efficacy of that company's products. The testimony may be entirely consistent with the scientist's "long-held views," but anyone exposed to the testimony has a right to know about the potential conflict of interest.

The whole sordid business got me thinking: is there any way to clean up the marketplace of ideas here in the United States?  We are drowning in information and opinion, much of it claiming to be objective and authoritative when it may in fact be inspired and funded by moneyed special interests eager to sell the public a story that advances their particular objectives. Most "think tanks" in Washington portray themselves as objective, quasi-scholarly institutions (indeed, they increasingly give researchers endowed chairs and other quasi-academic titles), but unlike most universities, most think tanks remain heavily dependent on "soft money" and are bound to be especially sensitive to what potential donors might be thinking. And some of them aren't really scholarly at all; they are just public relations operations or "letterhead organizations" seeking to mold public opinion and push the policy process in a particular direction. But unless you know who's paying for it, it's hard to decide who's giving you an honest opinion and who is just shilling for some powerful interest group.

Can we tame this beast without infringing on free speech?

Here's a suggestion: let's start by asking participants in the war of ideas to provide a lot more information about their financial dealings. The SEC requires companies to make relevant financial information available to investors; why shouldn't those who provide information in the public arena provide a similar level of disclosure to those who "invest" in their alleged expertise? We don't have to pass a law requiring think tanks or pundits to disclose the details of their funding arrangements to the public; as a first step, we could simply rank different organizations and individuals on the level of disclosure they provide, much as other groups help potential donors rate charitable organizations on their administrative efficiency. 

For example, think tanks could be ranked according to their willingness to provide lists of their funding sources, specifying both the sources of the funding and the specific projects that the donors paid for. Wouldn't you like to know who is bankrolling the American Enterprise Institute, Cato Institute, Heritage Foundation, Center for American Progress, Washington Institute for Near East Policy, Brookings Institution, Council on Foreign Relations, Hudson Institute, Middle East Institute, Foreign Policy Initiative, Institute for the Study of War, the Federation of American Scientists, or the New America Foundation? 

Such groups shouldn't make us dig for the information; they could just put it all out on their websites. Lord knows that these groups work overtime disseminating reports, testimony, op-eds and policy memos; surely it is not too much to ask them to tell us who is providing the wherewithal. Organizations that come clean could get a 5-star rating, and journalists and citizens who get exposed to their "analysis" could attach the appropriate discount to whatever they were being fed.

Or take this idea a step further: why not ask prominent pundits and commentators to provide similar disclosure, and rate them for their transparency as well? Where do David Brooks, Juan Cole, Ann Coulter, Glenn Greenwald, Andrew Sullivan, Michael Goldfarb, Michelle Malkin, Matt Yglesias, Richard Perle, Steve Clemons, Fred Kagan, or George Will get their money? How much is salary, and how much is derived from honoraria, royalties, or consulting work? And who's paying the bills? 

Please understand that I'm not criticizing these organizations for accepting contributions from any legitimate source, and I'm not suggesting that commentators shouldn't supplement their income through various outside activities. This is America, where, making a buck is a perfectly worthy enterprise. Nor am I suggesting that think tanks and pundits are just selling their opinions to the highest bidder; more commonly, outside groups pay for someone's services because they already know what he or she thinks and they want to support it or consume it (i.e., by hiring a well-known pundit to give a talk). My point is simply that consumers of a think tank's products or a public intellectual's work have a right to know who is paying for their activities, so that they can take that fact into account.  

Nor am I proposing that full (or even partial) disclosure be a requirement for bloggers, journalists, pundits, or essayists who engage in public debate. Needless to say, that would be a gross infringement of free speech.  My proposal is much more modest: we should start asking about their sources of support, and somebody ought to keep track of how different people answer it.  Any commentator or public intellectual who wants to keep their financial information strictly private is free to do so. But if they do, then we are entitled to ask if they have something to hide, and to rank them lower than those who are willing to divulge their backers.

Am I willing to practice what I preach? Sure. For the current year, for example, about 80 percent of my income is my salary from Harvard. Harvard pays me to teach courses, advise students, administer a research program, and serve on various school committees, and it also expects me to publish research on various public policy issues. I like to think that I'm pulling my weight in each of these areas.

The remainder of my earnings comes from service as the academic consultant to the S Rajaratnam School of International Studies in Singapore, writing this blog, co-editing a book series, and assorted royalties and honoraria (mostly for giving talks or writing articles). The latter, by the way, is almost all from universities or citizens' groups, although I also got some modest compensation for participating (along with a bunch of other scholars) in a workshop series funded by the National Intelligence Council. 

So far, nobody has offered me a stake an oil-field.  If anybody does, I'll let you know right away.

Building on Robert Farley, Matt Yglesias has a smart post about the value of playing "hard to get" in American diplomacy. The basic idea is simple: the United States is very powerful and fairly secure, and so our allies usually need our support more than we need theirs. If we understand that fact, we gain a lot of leverage over their conduct by making it clear that our support depends on their cooperation. If we forget that fact, or we start obsessing about our own credibility and need to demonstrate "toughness," we lose that leverage and others start taking advantage of us.

Of course, I think this point is smart because I made the same argument in the conclusion of Taming American Power. Check out pp. 240-243. And I'm glad Robert and Matt are resurrecting this line of argument, because new ideas don't catch on unless people repeating them over and over and over ...

The debate about the strategically myopic policy of "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" has resurfaced again, sparked by a revealing article in the October issue of Joint Force Quarterly. President Obama told the Human Rights Campaign meeting on October 11 that he would end DADT, but he didn't say when. National Security Advisor James Jones clarified matters by saying Obama would end the policy "at the right time." Oh good. What a relief that must be to gay men and women who are already serving, or those that would like to. It's nice to know that ending an unfair and counterproductive policy is on a strict timetable. I just hope Obama doesn't start talking about a "roadmap," because then we know nothing will change.

I have nothing to add to my earlier comments on this issue, but I'm pleased that the author of the JFQ article apparently agrees.

Everybody with a website has gone bananas over Obama getting this year's Nobel Peace Prize, so why shouldn't I add my two cents?   I'm here in Norway at the moment (from which the prize originates), so I want to make it abundantly clear that I had nothing to do with it.

As for my reaction, I'm with the many voices who think this is way, way premature, and also with those who think Obama's best move would have been to decline it gracefully, while saying he would be thrilled to be deserving at some later date.  The Nobel Committee might have felt dissed, but I believe he would have won enormous plaudits elsewhere. 

Why is the prize ill-chosen?  Because we all know that "talk is cheap," and thus far that's mostly what Obama has offered us.  We're getting out of Iraq (though maybe not completely), but George W. Bush had already signed the deal to do that before he left office.  We aren't getting out of Afghanistan any time soon. He's given a great speech in Cairo, and then whiffed on the follow-through towards Israeli-Palestinian peace. He's given another nice speech about eliminating nuclear weapons, but anyone want to bet on whether he delivers on that particular pledge? America's image is improved (except in the Middle East), but I can't think of a single conflict that has gone away (or even significantly decreased) since he took office. So far, his main tangible foreign policy achievment was getting the Olympic Committee to unite in rejecting Chicago's bid and awarding the games to Rio.

More importantly, this award risks discrediting the prize even more than some earlier choices.  We don't know what Obama will be forced (or will choose) to do in the rest of his presidency (which could last another 7+ years) and if he ends up escalating any existing conflicts or-heaven forbid-starting a new one, it will make a mockery of the whole idea of the prize. I wouldn't be surprised if this award doesn't generate more than a little resentment around the world, especially if U.S. foreign policy changes less than many people still hope it will.

Finally, the Peace Prize is awarded by the Norwegian Nobel Committee, and all the Norwegians I've talked to thus far think it was a bizarre decision. One Norwegian friend had a simple explanation: the chairman of the committee is Thorbjorn Jagland, a former president of the parliament who is apparently something of a running joke in Norwegian political circles and famous for boneheaded statements.   My Norwegian friend called this decision "typical."

In any case, I'm putting in for next year's peace prize now.  I haven't done anything to deserve it either, but what if I promise to write a great book or article in the next twelve months that will substantially contribute to world peace?  In fact, I'll even promise to retool as an economist and put a mathematical model in the piece, so that I'm eligible for two prizes, not one.  OK?

DANIEL SANNUM LAUTEN/AFP/Getty Images

 

Talking Points Memo reports that a host of prominent right-wing pundits-- including those Very Serious People at the Weekly Standard -- could not have been more delighted when the International Olympic Committee ousted Chicago during the first round of the voting for the 2012 Olympics. When the decision was announced, the editor reported, "cheers erupted."

As readers here know, I thought it was a mistake for Obama to get involved in this issue, and I predicted that the "right-wing smear machine" would try to exploit it. But hosting the Olympics would almost certainly have been a boon for Chicago -- a great American city -- and good for the United States overall. So why were these right-wing apparatchiks cheering?

Simple. They were happy because they could not care less about the actual United States of America or ordinary American citizens: What they care about is their privileged positions, political clout, and personal income. And those things depend on trashing the Democrats and trying to get the GOP back in power no matter what it takes, which at the present means seizing any pretext to bash President Obama. So if the IOC decision makes Obama look bad, they are for it, even if it means fewer jobs for Americans in the Midwest and less prestige for the country as a whole. 

Am I being too harsh? Here’s a simple test: Have any of these organizations of individuals issued an apology for their selfish and sophomoric behavior?  The Weekly Standard removed a post from its Web site describing the cheers that filled their offices when Chicago lost, but that's a sign of embarrassment, not remorse. Right-wing gasbag Rush Limbaugh was openly unrepentant, saying, "For those of you ... who are upset that I sound gleeful, I am. I don't deny it. I'm happy."

So the next time you see or hear William Kristol or Rush Limbaugh wrapping themselves in the flag and waxing eloquent about how much they love "America," just remember: They were happy when the United States lost.

Bill Pugliano/Getty Images

Although I voted for him with enthusiasm and was delighted when he won, I've tried to maintain a critical stance towards the Obama administration's efforts so far. As readers of this blog will know, I've been critical of their approach to AfPak, ambivalent about their Middle East policy, troubled by the backsliding on torture and indefinite detentions, and concerned that they were trying to do way too much too soon. But I've also tried to cut them some slack, knowing that they inherited an economy in free fall and a set of intractable foreign policy problems. Even a great president and a competent team would find it difficult to work instantaneous miracles, especially in a political system that has many veto points and was designed to make far-reaching change difficult to impossible.

That said, I am starting to wonder. In particular, I think Obama is going to have to pick an issue and demonstrate that there is a price to pay for thwarting him. Not every opponent is amenable to sweet reason and calm deliberation, and adversaries abroad --and at home -- need to understand that the President can be tough too. Like the early Bill Clinton, so far he's been better at punishing supporters (e.g., Van Jones, Charles Freeman) than opponents.

So I keep thinking about Ronald Reagan's decision to go after the air traffic controllers union (PATCO) back in 1981. When the union went out on strike over demands for better pay and working conditions, thereby violating a federal law barring walkouts by federal employees, Reagan ordered them back to work and fired any members who didn't comply. In fact, he barred the strikers from further federal employment (a ban he later rescinded), while the administration improvised a replacement system that kept the airplanes flying. Whatever the merits of Reagan's action, it showed he could play hardball and it made him appear to be a decisive leader who wasn't afraid to go to the mat.

Bottom line: Obama and his team need to pick a fight with someone and win, so that both rivals and fence-sitters recognize that foot-dragging, malicious distortion, etc., are not without costs and risks. But one word of advice: a war with Iran is not the sort of fight I have in mind.

John Moore/Getty Images

Plenty of words have already been written about former Secretary of Defense Robert S. McNamara, and more will be written now that he is gone. I was only twelve years old when he "stepped down" as secretary of defense, and I didn't know much about his role in national security policy or even his disastrous mis-management of Vietnam at that time. I studied his career during college and graduate school, however, and subsequently paid a lot of attention to his various pronouncements about nuclear weapons, his recollections about the Cuban Missile Crisis, and his belated mea culpa about his role in Vietnam.

Some commentators see McNamara as a tragic figure; a talented, driven, and dedicated public servant who mishandled a foolish war and spent the remainder of his life trying to atone for it. The obituary in today's New York Times takes this line, describing him as having "spent the rest of his life wrestling with the war's moral consequences," and as someone who "wore the expression of a haunted man."

I see his fate differently. Unlike the American soldiers who fought in Indochina, or the millions of Indochinese who died there, McNamara did not suffer significant hardship as a result of his decisions. He lived a long and comfortable life, and he remained a respected member of the foreign policy establishment. He had no trouble getting his ideas into print, or getting the media to pay attention to his pronouncements. Not much tragedy there.

McNamara may have been a gifted analyst and corporate executive, blessed with a lot of raw smarts, but he was also one of those people who could not imagine being wrong or resist the desire to tell the world what to do. Failure in Vietnam did not teach him humility; he ran the World Bank with same ego-driven sense of infallibility he had brought to the Pentagon (and with predictably mixed results). Yet this second experience with failure did not temper his love of the limelight or his desire to prescribe How Things Should Be Done. He spent the last decades of his life offering high-profile advice on various aspects of nuclear weapons policy -- with the same degree of self-assurance he had always displayed -- and he sought the spotlight once again with a belated memoir on his role in Vietnam. As always, however, it was filled with "lessons" for others; to the last, McNamara retained an unwarranted confidence in his own ideas as well as an inability to keep quiet.

Overall, McNamara's post-Vietnam behavior raises a broader question about the role of former officials who have led their country into major disasters. Ordinarily, we should respect the men and women who have devoted years of their lives to public service and listen carefully to the counsel of those who have the benefit of long experience. Moreover, someone who is no longer competing for a job in Washington may be more likely to give honest advice than someone who is still worrying about the questions she might face at a confirmation hearing.

But in some cases -- and a lot of former Bush administration officials come to mind here -- the failures are of sufficient gravity as to render all subsequent advice suspect. And when a government official's repeated errors have left thousands of their fellow citizens dead or grievously wounded, along with hundreds of thousands of other human beings, it would be more seemly for them to remain silent, in mute acknowledgement of their own mistakes. And if they persist in pontificating -- as Elliot Abrams, John Bolton, and Dick Cheney are now doing -- a nation that understood the importance of accountability might have the good sense to pay them the attention and respect they deserve. Which is to say: none.

AFP/AFP/Getty Images

I am heading to California tomorrow on a family vacation, and will be posting infrequently over the next ten days. I've asked a few people to contribute guest blogs while I'm gone, and I'm sure I'll chime in from time to time, but I plan to spend most of my time reading, hiking, and catching up with my family out west. I wonder if there's good Wifi in Yosemite Valley...