The names of military operations can give a glimpse into the mindset of those in charge. For instance, Overlord, Dragoon, Husky, Torch, all from WWII. These names connote strength, power, dominance. In Viet Nam, Rolling Thunder was evocative of the administration strategy of threatened escalation; its successor operations, Linebacker I and Linebacker II, connoted something far different, a determination to hit the enemy hard. (This was the era of Dick Butkus and Ray Nitschke; people knew that linebackers inflicted pain and knocked people out.) More recently, Desert Storm and Iraqi Freedom were quite descriptive of American intentions. My favorite operational name is Ripper, the sobriquet given by Matthew Ridgeway to the offensive to push Chinese forces back to the 38th parallel and to retake Seoul. That name oozed aggressiveness and violence.
And today, the Obama administration brings us . . . Operation Odyssey Dawn? That sounds like the name of some kid born at a California commune, circa 1970. Operation Odyssey Dawn? Really? What does that mean, exactly?
The best explanation I can come up with is that the Pentagon is trying to warn the country that we’re at the beginning of a long, strange trip. And they may be right.
The Pentagon has been signaling furiously since unrest began in Libya that it wanted no part of it. SecDef Gates made it sound like operations against Libya would be as daunting as invading Festung Europa.
My hypothesis to explain the defense establishment’s obvious reluctance to get involved with Libya is that it was–is–petrified at the prospect of getting involved in a civil war under the command of an obviously reluctant, diffident, unenthusiastic, uncommitted, and distracted commander in chief who has articulated no coherent policy. The military doesn’t want to get left hanging when things get tough–and they will, in a messy situation like Libya. They sense that Obama’s commitment to the endeavor is extremely shallow, and that he is likely to bail at the first sign of trouble. I am also convinced that they are deeply troubled by his lack of any military experience and strategic sense, and indeed, his complete disinterest not to say disdain in the subject.
These concerns are legitimate, and the actions of the last month only substantiate them. The most opportune time to have struck passed weeks ago, when Khaddafy was reeling and the rebels were surging. Now the reverse is true: the rebels are reeling and Khadaffy is surging. Now, it is likely that the best outcome is stalemate, perhaps like in Iraqi Kurdistan between Desert Storm and Iraqi Freedom. The rebels’ offensive capability is nil. An air campaign can eliminate Libya’s air force and, depending upon how aggressively it is waged, Khaddafy’s ability to use armor and massed infantry to reassert control over the rest of the country.
But as Saddam showed in 1991 when brutally suppressing the Shia revolt in the south, after his forces were routed in Kuwait and southern Iraq, a dictator bent on restoring control can often do so. And as it was with Saddam in 1991, this is an existential conflict for Khaddafy. He loses, he dies, most likely. He may be denied some means of prevailing by an allied air campaign, but he has numerous asymmetric tools at his disposal that are not as vulnerable to air attack that he can–and will–employ to survive and prevail.
It doesn’t seem that Obama, Sarkozy, and Cameron have fully appreciated the capacity for ruthlessness, and the endurance, of people like Khaddafy when they are against the wall. Indeed, Obama’s perfunctory speech, delivered before jetting off to the Copacabana–literally–betrays considerable confusion. On the one hand, he presented a damning portrait of Khaddafy as a murderous psychopath who “must go.” (Is it news that Khaddafy is a murderous psychopath? Who didn’t know this, in say, 1985, or particularly, 1988? Or even in late-February, when the opportunity to strike was far more promising? Is it a surprise that Khaddafy has reacted brutally? To whom? Other than Louis Farrakhan, of course.)
On the other hand, he committed the US to extremely–extremely–limited military objectives: safeguarding civilians. He has indicated publicly, and apparently to Congress, that he will employ extremely limited means to the task: evidently, American aircraft are not committed to the campaign, only British and French (and perhaps later some Arab forces). Americans will “shape the conditions”: can you imagine Churchill saying “we will shape the conditions on the beaches. We will shape the conditions on the landing grounds. We will shape the conditions on the hillsides . . . ?”
What’s more, the message is apparently a mixed one, because some sources, including but not limited to Stratfor, claim that regime change is the true objective. Given the predicate (Khaddafy is a murderous psychopath and numerous civilian lives are at risk) this makes sense: how do you really protect the civilians from said murderous psychopath when he is still in charge?
But if regime change is the true goal, then why is Obama so insistent on the limited nature of the objectives, and on the extremely limited nature of the American resources committed? If regime change is the real goal, why won’t he come out and say it? Is it that he cannot admit to Bushian impulses? Waging war under false pretenses is always a bad idea, and usually inflicts huge political damage on the president that attempts to do so.
Make no mistake, as was demonstrated in both 1991 and 2003, even extremely intensive, comprehensive air campaigns far more powerful than those contemplated in Libya today provide few assurances of achieving decapitation, let alone regime change. “Shock and awe” didn’t deprive Saddam of his means of political control or prevent him from brutally repressing civilians.
So I think that the military is having LBJ flashbacks. Only worse.