Voice

Nation-Building in the Classroom

Has President Obama given up too soon on hopes for fixing Afghanistan?

I have spent the last two weeks teaching a class -- along with Bruce Jones, director of the Center on International Cooperation -- on the increasingly unfashionable topic of nation-building. Bruce and I did what we could to convey the difficulty, not to say the implausibility, of this endeavor by asking the students, from New York University's Abu Dhabi campus, to focus on ether Afghanistan or Haiti -- pathological patients which have resisted virtually every form of treatment available to the nation-building professional. But we never fully dented the kids' optimism, as they marshaled an impressive series of arguments for more international engagement, be it a second, third, or fourth try.

Experience has certainly dented Barack Obama's optimism: A president who came to office arguing that failing states constituted a threat to U.S. national security now asserts that the time has come to do nation-building at home rather than abroad. Indeed, the biggest problem with nation-building is that the practice keeps making the theory look bad. Experts like James Dobbins at Rand emphasize that nation-building can work when outside forces put sufficient money and troops into the effort. But then the world pours money into places like Haiti or Afghanistan, or the Congo, and it disappears into quicksand, or people's pockets. These efforts seem to vindicate critics like William Easterly who insist that development assistance doesn't work, or scholars like Daron Acemoglu and James Robinson, who argue in Why Nations Fail that dysfunctional political institutions cause states to fail, and outsiders can do very little to help.

But the record is not quite so dreadful as we think, at least if we take in the long view. The last Australian peacekeeping troops recently left Timor Leste -- still a desperately poor and miserable place more than 12 years after foreign troops waded ashore -- but it's now standing on its own shaky legs. Both Liberia and Sierra Leone were killing fields not long ago, and now, after major international interventions, they are democratic and ever so slightly hopeful. Nation-building cannot spark prosperity, or infuse legitimacy into a corrupt political order; but it can build the capacity of feeble states, and give them the breathing room to establish their own bona fides.

And this brings me to Afghanistan. As I wrote recently, the stated willingness of White House officials to remove all U.S. troops from Afghanistan, and to do so rapidly, implies that the administration has already achieved its goal of degrading al Qaeda -- Obama said as much while standing with Afghan president Hamid Karzai earlier this month -- and is now prepared to let Afghanistan sink or swim on its own. Yet Obama has also committed the United States to spending about $6 billion a year in Afghanistan for training and aid even after the troops go home in 2014. I wonder, given all the talk about nation-building at home, how the president will justify the need for all that money sent overseas.

It's important to understand that what Obama has been doing in Afghanistan is not exactly nation-building; it's "stabilization." The counterinsurgency strategy he authorized in late 2009 envisioned an influx of civilian officials and funds into the most contested parts of the country in order to improve local governance and increase prosperity -- so as to win the loyalty of the Afghan people and marginalize the Taliban. This was nation-building-in-a-box; and it failed. One study after another has found that the civilian effort has not produced a change in the mindset of ordinary Afghans, save perhaps to make them more hostile to the foreign presence or the Afghan government. What's more, aid that could have been spent effectively in more peaceful areas has been lavished on the most dangerous provinces, Kandahar, Helmand, and Uruzgun, where gains are most at risk of evaporating when international troops leave.

Aid-as-stabilization was bound to fail, since the kind of behavioral changes aid seeks to promote happen far too slowly to suit U.S. military objectives. And yet aid-as-nation-building has not altogether failed. In 2002, 900,000 children, all boys, were enrolled in school in Afghanistan; now the figure is 8 million, 40 percent of them girls. Access to basic health services has gone from 9 percent of the population to 60 percent. Life expectancy is reported to have increased 15 years over the last decade (though public health scholars have disputed the reliability of the figures.) Of course, the cataract of money that the United States has poured into Afghanistan over the last decade was bound to do some good, but we should bear in mind that only $16 billion of the over $500 billion which we've spent there has been channeled through the U.S. Agency for International Development.

Afghanistan doesn't discredit the case for aid; it discredits the case for conscripting aid into short-term military goals. The COIN imperative has not only directed money away from the regions where it could have the best effect, it has also dictated that much of it is devoted to ambitious development or public-works projects carried out by American non-profits and private companies outside the control of the Afghan government. Such "off-budget" spending is immensely wasteful; a recent World Bank report concluded that only 10-20 percent of such funds actually reach Afghanistan, as opposed to 70-80 percent of money given to the Afghan government. And of course it does nothing to strengthen the government, allegedly the ultimate goal of the program.

This is not as illogical as it sounds. Because, as Acemoglu and Robinson convincingly argue, poor institutions play a central role in state failure, host governments are often too weak, or too corrupt, to entrust with large-scale projects. And Afghanistan is Exhibit A for weak-state syndrome. Nevertheless, my students, bless their idealistic hearts, organized their presentation on Afghanistan around the theme of empowering Afghans in their own development -- for example, by increasing Afghan entrepreneurs' access to financing and Western expertise. Self-sufficiency is, after all, the best exit strategy; it just requires a great deal of patience, the one commodity the Pentagon isn't blessed with.

Now the military is leaving. With the COIN phase coming to an end, the United States can afford to focus on the slow work of enhancing local capacity which is the sine qua non of nation-building. Alex Thier, the USAID official responsible for Afghanistan and Pakistan, says that the administration is well aware of the need to encourage Afghan self-sufficiency, and has been channeling increasing sums through the more capable ministries, like the Ministry of Public Health. Thier also says that USAID has begun to spend far more of its funds outside the conflict zones.

Thier argues that the advances in Afghan well-being enabled by U.S. and international aid have already helped stabilize the country. We'll see what happens when U.S. forces withdraw from Helmand and Kandahar; news accounts have emphasized the enduring popular, and ubiquity, of the Taliban in the disputed south. The irony is that the new strategy of directly funding the Afghan government may do more to stabilize the country than have the off-budget projects dictated by the COIN strategy. The $16 billion which the United States and other donors have pledged to give Afghanistan over the next four years represents a big drop in total aid; but because donors promised that half the funds would be sent through Kabul, the government should be more able to pay for its commitments than it has in the past. And 80 percent of the funds will be aligned with Kabul's own priorities. That is an important vote of confidence -- deserved or not -- for a government desperately seeking legitimacy with its own people.

With the threat of terrorism receding along Afghanistan's border with Pakistan but growing in North Africa and elsewhere, I'm not sure that Obama can come up with a compelling national-security rationale for the long-term commitment to Afghanistan he's undertaken. In any case, his heart is plainly no longer in it. But I would offer something simpler: We got Afghanistan into this mess, and we should do what we can to help get it out.

Daniel Berehulak/Getty Images

Terms of Engagement

Second-Term Heat

What will be the legacy of Obama's next four years?

Barack Obama has a cautionary temperament, but a large imagination. That is, he defines his goals in grandiose terms, though he is prepared to take many small steps to reach them. Because he took office in the midst of an immense financial crisis (one that he had no reason to expect when he first decided to run), Obama spent far more of his first term staving off calamity than he would have hoped. A combination of sheer urgency, congressional intransigence, and the painful lessons of experience -- especially on foreign policy -- have sapped Obama's presidency of much of the youthful exuberance and ambition it once had. I cannot believe that he is altogether satisfied with where he finds himself today. As he faces his inauguration on Monday, Jan. 21, and his second term, he is sure to be thinking about how he can leave a mark on history commensurate with his sense of destiny.

It's a truism, and possibly even a true one, that U.S. presidents who win a second term look to foreign affairs to burnish their legacy. Foreign policy does not require messy compromises with Congress, and second-term presidents are usually more confident of their standing in the world and thus readier to go for broke. After a first term spent confronting the "Evil Empire," as he called the Soviet Union, in 1986 President Ronald Reagan met in Reykjavik, Iceland, with his Soviet counterpart, Mikhail Gorbachev, and came within a hairsbreadth of agreeing to eliminate much of the two countries' nuclear arsenals. President Bill Clinton made a last-ditch effort to broker a peace deal between Israel and Palestine; that failed, but Clinton's only slightly less difficult mediation between Britain and Northern Ireland succeeded. The same rule does not quite hold for President George W. Bush, who was all too confident of his judgment of the world before he knew anything about it and spent much of his second term cleaning up the mess he had caused in the first.

Obama came into office caring about foreign policy more than any of his predecessors back to the first President Bush. His advisors would tell you that Obama had not just a managerial agenda but an affirmative one: The chief elements were nuclear nonproliferation, climate change, fixing failed states, and rebuilding the international architecture. He has made real progress in all those areas, and he won a Nobel Peace Prize, which he acknowledged he did not yet deserve. His "engagement" policy has leached some of the poisons that gathered during George W. Bush's presidency. And yes, he killed Osama bin Laden. But Afghanistan has proved to be Obama's Big Muddy; Iran has shown no signs of giving up its nuclear program or caving under sanctions; Obama has found himself unable to act in the face of massive atrocities in Syria; and the president's bid to bring Middle East peace came to naught. Had he lost the election, Obama's most lasting contribution to U.S. national security policy almost certainly would have been the program of targeted killing through drone strikes with which he has carried out the war on terror. That is definitely not what Obama had in mind when he ran for office.

The time has come then for the reset of Obama's reset. Ben Rhodes, his deputy national security advisor, has been holding meetings on how to revive and rethink engagement policy, which sounds like a painfully modest first step on the path to legacy. Surely there's something bigger and bolder out there. There has been, of course, no lack of kibitzing on the subject. The Brookings Institution has just published a briefing memo titled "Big Bets and Black Swans." This is arguably a paradoxical endeavor because Brookings is the very font of cautious mainstream thinking. In some cases, in fact, the big bets look more like nickel antes. The first of the proposals is that the president should "rebalance judiciously the rebalancing strategy" in China. On defense spending, Brookings advises Obama to "pursue relatively modest savings from additional efficiencies" rather than "seek fairly dramatic changes." In other words, the little bet.

Brookings offers some good advice that Obama probably won't take (a diplomatic restart with Iran, arming Syrian rebels) and some that he might (relaxing sanctions on Cuba, brokering disputes in the South China Sea). Tellingly, Middle East peace, the favorite big bet of all recent presidents, does not make the cut -- for the very good reason that the chances of success are so low. My favorite proposal is that Obama lay out and open for debate a doctrine for the use of new weapons, above all drones, as President Harry Truman and President Dwight Eisenhower sought to do with the atomic bomb. If drones are going to be part of Obama's legacy, then so too should be the establishment of a domestic and international legal and regulatory framework for their use.

I have, however, a modest proposal of my own: a climate deal with China. Climate change is a more urgent problem than nuclear proliferation. Obama is deeply seized with the subject, as is John Kerry, his all-but-confirmed secretary of state. Hurricane Sandy was a seminal moment, having something of the effect on public opinion that the Sandy Hook school shooting has had on gun control; wait a few months, and more calamities will push the public further still. The United States and China, which together produce almost half of global carbon dioxide emissions, are the key to solving the problem. Congress has refused to take any serious steps so long as the major emerging countries -- above all China -- fail to do so, but U.S. inaction provides an indispensable pretext for Chinese hesitation. No one wants to move without the other.

At the same time, there is tremendous activity on both sides, both at the private-sector level and at the state level. California has a cap-and-trade system, while nine Northeastern states have agreed to reduce emissions from power plants. In China, six provinces have begun pilot cap-and-trade programs. There is more "bottom-up" than "top-down" progress in both countries. A climate agreement could coordinate and accelerate that progress. William Antholis, a former trade and climate negotiator for President Clinton now at Brookings, suggests as a "middle bar" a bilateral framework that would promote cooperation between the two countries at the state and provincial levels as well as joint programs on auto-emissions standards, natural gas technology, alternative-energy research, and the like. Such a pact could include specific targets for emission reductions or improvements in "energy intensity" -- emissions per unit of energy.

Of such useful but modest steps, however, legacies are not made. And we will be living in a very hot world by the time these measures have taken full effect. Because neither country appears prepared to adopt a national cap-and-trade system, the "high bar," says Antholis, would be a joint agreement to impose a carbon tax. This could counteract the effect of growing U.S. oil and gas production by making conservation measures and the use of alternative-energy sources more appealing (another one of the Brookings "big bets," by the way). And of course it would apply to each country, not just to particular states and provinces. There may be no other way of bending the curve of global emissions growth downward quickly enough to avoid catastrophic changes in the environment. This would have the added benefit of providing a sense of common purpose and common interest to the United States' contentious relationship with China.

Since Beijing surely would not bind itself until Washington does, Congress would almost certainly have to pass such a measure in order for China to sign. That would be quite a heavy political lift. Republicans would insist that such a measure be revenue-neutral, which is to say that it would have to be offset by a tax cut and thus could not be used to invest in, say, alternative-energy development. But that's self-defeating: The American people, as I've said before, will accept serious climate change measures as an opportunity for growth and bold change, not as a sacrifice or punishment. The highest of the high bars would thus be a deal with China, bringing with it a carbon tax and new investment.

That would require mighty deft diplomacy both at home and abroad -- though now that we're on the subject of legacy, it's hard to imagine a more lasting one for a Secretary Kerry. Both Kerry and Obama will, in fact, want to lay a big bet somewhere. I say, let's wait for a few more hurricanes and droughts, and then get to work.

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