The Use Of Military Force Is About More Than Expected Outcomes

Community
Paratroopers with 1st Brigade Combat Team, 82nd Airborne Division fire at insurgent forces during a firefight in Afghanistan’s Ghazni Province, June 15, 2012.
U.S. Army photo by Sgt. Michael J. MacLeod

As the city of Kunduz attempts to rebuild, its temporary occupation by Taliban forces should force the U.S. foreign policy establishment to stop and reflect on what the entire 14-year long war in Afghanistan has accomplished. It is indeed valuable to ask whether the value of the city and Afghanistan as a whole exceeded the cost of American and coalition blood spent fighting for control over the years. Focusing on events like the takeover of Mosul and Kunduz force us to confront the bigger question: Was the war worth it? If yes, then how much additional cost should we be willing to bear to ensure the viability of our investment?


Pundits across the political spectrum such as Juan Cole and John Bolton answer, “Was it worth it?” by substituting the question, “How did things turn out?” The answers to the questions of worth and what should be done to retain that value are predictably aligned with ideological predispositions: from conservatives, yes, worth it, and the Obama administration is now throwing it all away; to liberals, no, and we told you so.

Unfortunately, the more nuanced perspectives, which contextualize battlefield failures with the inherent difficulties of train-and-assist efforts, are in the minority. True, the more simplistic and straightforward recommendations — from the “Yes, worth it” camp amounting to “time to double down” and the “No, not worth it” camp amounting to “fold and leave immediately” — feel more psychologically satisfying for both the public and political leaders. However, these perspectives fail to acknowledge the grey realities of training foreign forces and the complexities of combating insurgents as an invading force — on average, the chances of success in civil wars and counterinsurgencies is about equivalent to a coin flip. Making small bets and playing the odds means losing occasionally but also winning occasionally; while a smart poker strategy viscerally feels awfully unsatisfying when lives and nations are at stake.

Criticism of past decisions and strategies are often biased by outcome and hindsight. Bill Roggio claims that the fall of Kunduz invalidates the entire 2009 Afghanistan surge decision; however, this claim does not grapple with the important counterfactual of what Afghanistan would look like if there hadn’t been a surge of forces in the first place. Similarly, Allen West’s claim that Kunduz was the result of President Obama’s desire to avoid confrontation does not acknowledge the dangers of using force in an indiscriminate manner (a point tragically underscored by the errant airstrike on a Médecins Sans Frontières hospital).  

But the quality and wisdom of a decision cannot simply be determined based on outcome, it must also take into account the thoroughness of the process used to arrive at the decision. Yet we almost always fall victim to viewing decisions solely through the outcome lens. Everyone wants to be a part of a success. Defeats are abandoned like burning buildings. It’s like saying the raid to kill Osama bin Laden was a good decision because it worked out, while being ready to abandon that judgment if it had turned into a catastrophe like Desert One. It’s easy to say that Afghanistan wasn’t worth fighting for with Kunduz burning in the background and much more difficult to say the same when Taliban fighters were in full retreat in 2001.

Judging decisions based solely on outcomes is also dangerous because it prepares the ingredients for poor future decisions. Outcome bias leads to confusing “getting lucky”  (winning longshot battles) with “deserved successes” (winning well-planned and well-executed battles). It’s necessary to distinguish the odds of success before deciding whether a decision was wise or not. Future historians might characterize the U.S. foray into Afghanistan as having had a chance to be successful. They might also characterize the U.S. invasion into Iraq as being doomed from the start, unleashing regional consequences we have not yet imagined, let alone dealt with. Thus embarking on one operation might have been a more wise decision when compared to the other. In the long run, luck usually runs out. It is necessary to depend on proper planning and strategic thinking when choosing our battles.

How should this new understanding help us with future decisions? Distinguishing the odds helps us better understand that errors in foreign policy can come from two distinct sources: action and inaction. Not taking action when there are good odds of success can be just as detrimental as taking action when things aren’t likely to work out. We often observe and criticize errors of action (TSA confiscating your toothpaste), but we also find it completely consistent to criticize errors of inaction (TSA not confiscating a toothpaste bomb).

The public wants our leaders to be perfect as well — committing forces to the fight when needed and avoiding commitments when we’re likely to get stuck in a quagmire. In hindsight, keeping forces in Iraq post-2011 or rushing them back in after Fallujah fell may have kept the Islamic State from making the territorial gains that it has to date. It may also have committed U.S. troops to another decade-long foreign adventure. A smart foreign policy comes from making necessary course changes and adjustments as conditions evolve. Yet, the same public and pundit class that demands perfect security also demands ideological and decisional purity from our leaders. This is the equivalent of forcing leaders to be stuck in the single-dial settings of “Yes, use force” or “No, don’t use force.” Unfortunately, one man’s nuance is another man’s flip flop.

Ultimately, our response to Kunduz and any future Kunduzes should take into account anticipated security gains as well as the probability of success. What kind of actions we take and whether or not we take any action at all should result from an understanding of the risks from taking action as well as the risks from inaction. Use of force is a matter of type, degree, duration, and a whole host of other considerations. We should demand that our leaders take reasonable courses of action and not just default to whatever feels politically expedient. Likewise we should demand informed analysis from media commentators, not just parroted talking points that were generated based on ideologically biased assumptions. “Bomb them back to the Stone Age” and “War is not the answer” are two equally pithy and equally useless bumper sticker foreign policies.

(U.S. Army/Staff Sgt. Andrew Smith)

Three U.S. service members received non-life-threatening injuries after being fired on Monday by an Afghan police officer, a U.S. official confirmed.

The troops were part of a convoy in Kandahar province that came under attack by a member of the Afghan Civil Order Police, a spokesperson for Operation Resolute Support said on Monday.

Read More Show Less

Marine Maj. Jose J. Anzaldua Jr. spent more than three years during the height of the Vietnam War. Now, more than 45 years after his release, Sig Sauer is paying tribute to his service with a special gift.

Sig Sauer on Friday unveiled a unique 1911 pistol engraved with Anzaldua's name, the details of his imprisonment in Vietnam, and the phrase "You Are Not Forgotten" accompanied by the POW-MIA flag on the grip to commemorate POW-MIA Recognition Day.

The gunmaker also released a short documentary entitled "Once A Marine, Always A Marine" — a fitting title given Anzaldua's courageous actions in the line of duty

Marine Maj. Jose Anzaldua's commemorative 1911 pistol

(Sig Sauer)

Born in Texas in 1950, Anzaldua enlisted in the Marine Corps in 1968 and deployed to Vietnam as an intelligence scout assigned to the 2nd Battalion, 5th Marine Regiment, 1st Marine Division.

On Jan. 23, 1970, he was captured during a foot patrol and spent 1,160 days in captivity in various locations across North Vietnam — including he infamous Hỏa Lò Prison known among American POWs as the "Hanoi Hilton" — before he was freed during Operation Homecoming on March 27, 1973.

Anzaldua may have been a prisoner, but he never stopped fighting. After his release, he received two Bronze Stars with combat "V" valor devices and a Prisoner of War Medal for displaying "extraordinary leadership and devotion to his companions" during his time in captivity. From one of his Bronze Star citations:

Using his knowledge of the Vietnamese language, he was diligent, resourceful, and invaluable as a collector of intelligence information for the senior officer interned in the prison camp.

In addition, while performing as interpreter for other United States prisoners making known their needs to their captors, [Anzaldua] regularly, at the grave risk of sever retaliation to himself, delivered and received messages for the senior officer.

On one occasion, when detected, he refused to implicate any of his fellow prisoners, even though severe punitive action was expected.

Anzaldua also received a Navy and Marine Corps Medal for his heroism in December 1969, when he entered the flaming wreckage of a U.S. helicopter that crashed nearr his battalion command post in the country's Quang Nam Province and rescued the crew chief and a Vietnamese civilian "although painfully burned himself," according to his citation.

After a brief stay at Camp Pendleton following his 1973 release, Anzaldua attended Officer Candidate School at MCB Quantico, Virginia, earning his commission in 1974. He retired from the Corps in 1992 after 24 years of service.

Sig Sauer presented the commemorative 1911 pistol to Anzaldua in a private ceremony at the gunmaker's headquarters in Newington, New Hampshire. The pistol's unique features include:

  • 1911 Pistol: the 1911 pistol was carried by U.S. forces throughout the Vietnam War, and by Major Anzaldua throughout his service. The commemorative 1911 POW pistol features a high-polish DLC finish on both the frame and slide, and is chambered in.45 AUTO with an SAO trigger. All pistol engravings are done in 24k gold;
  • Right Slide Engraving: the Prisoner of War ribbon inset, with USMC Eagle Globe and Anchor and "Major Jose Anzaldua" engravings;
  • Top Slide Engraving: engraved oak leaf insignia representing the Major's rank at the time of retirement and a pair of dog tags inscribed with the date, latitude and longitude of the location where Major Anzaldua was taken as a prisoner, and the phrase "You Are Not Forgotten" taken from the POW-MIA flag;
  • Left Side Engraving: the Vietnam War service ribbon inset, with USMC Eagle Globe and Anchor engraving;
  • Pistol Grips: anodized aluminum grips with POW-MIA flag.

The top leaders of a Japan-based Marine Corps F/A-18D Hornet squadron were fired after an investigation into a deadly mid-air collision last December found that poor training and an "unprofessional command climate" contributed to the crash that left six Marines dead, officials announced on Monday.

Five Marines aboard a KC-130J Super Hercules and one Marine onboard an F/A-18D Hornet were killed in the Dec. 6, 2018 collision that took place about 200 miles off the Japanese coast. Another Marine aviator who was in the Hornet survived.

Read More Show Less

A former Army soldier was sentenced to 18 months in prison on Thursday for stealing weapons from Fort Bliss, along with other charges.

Read More Show Less
(U.S. Air Force photo illustration/Airman 1st Class Corey Hook)

Editor's Note: This article by Richard Sisk originally appeared on Military.com, a leading source of news for the military and veteran community.

The Department of Veterans Affairs released an alarming report Friday showing that at least 60,000 veterans died by suicide between 2008 and 2017, with little sign that the crisis is abating despite suicide prevention being the VA's top priority.

Although the total population of veterans declined by 18% during that span of years, more than 6,000 veterans died by suicide annually, according to the VA's 2019 National Veteran Suicide Prevention Annual Report.

Read More Show Less