A plan to reorganize military
bases at home is just one piece of a larger puzzle
that involves the projection of American power into
the distant lands that most concern us.
The last few weeks have been base-heavy ones in
the news. The Pentagon's provisional Base Realignment
and Closure (BRAC) list, the first in a decade,
was published to domestic screams of pain. It represents,
according to the Washington Post, "a sweeping
plan to close or reduce forces at 62 major bases
and nearly 800 minor facilities" in the United
States. The military is to be reorganized at home
around huge, multi-force "hub bases" from
which the Pentagon, in the fashion of a corporate
conglomerate, hopes to "reap economies of scale."
This was front page news for days as politicians
and communities from Connecticut (the U.S. Naval
Submarine Base in Groton) and New Jersey (Fort Monmouth)
to South Dakota (Ellsworth Air Force Base) cried
bloody murder over the potential loss of jobs and
threatened to fight to the death to prevent their
specific base or set of bases (but not anyone else's)
from closing -- after all, those workers had been
the most productive and patriotic around.
These closings -- and their potentially devastating
after-effects on communities -- were a reminder
(though seldom dealt with that way in the media)
of just how deeply the Pentagon has dug itself into
the infrastructure of our nation. With over 6,000
military bases in the U.S., we are in some ways
a vast military camp.
But while politicians screamed locally, Donald
Rumsfeld's Pentagon never thinks less than globally;
and, if you throw in the militarization of space,
sometimes even the global has proven too small a
framework for its presiding officials. For
them, the BRAC plans are just one piece of a larger
puzzle that involves the projection of American
power into the distant lands that most concern us.
After all, as Chalmers Johnson has calculated in
his book, "The Sorrows of Empire," our
global Baseworld already consists of at least 700
military and intelligence bases; possibly -- depending
on how you count them up -- many more. Under Rumsfeld's
organizational eye, such bases have been pushed
ever further into the previously off-limits "near
abroad" of the former Soviet Union (where we
now probably have more bases than the Russians do)
and ever deeper into the Middle Eastern and Caspian
oil heartlands of the planet.
The Bush administration's fierce focus on and interest
in reconfigured, stripped down, ever more forward
systems of bases and an ever more powerfully poised
military "footprint" stands in inverse
proportion to press coverage of it. To the present
occupants of the Pentagon, bases are the equivalent
of imperial America's lifeblood and yet basing policy
abroad has, in recent years, been of next to no
interest to the mainstream media.
Strategic Ally
Just in recent weeks, however, starting with the
uproar over the economic pain BRAC will impose (along
with the economic gain for those "hubs"),
bases have returned to public consciousness in at
least a modest way. This month, for instance, the
Overseas Basing Commission released a report to
the President and Congress on the "reconfiguration
of the American military overseas basing structure
in the post-Cold War and post-September 11 era."
The report created a minor flap by criticizing the
Pentagon for its overly ambitious global redeployment
plans at a time when "[s]ervice budgets are
not robust enough to execute the repositioning of
forces, build the facilities necessary to accommodate
the forces, [and] build the expanding facilities
at new locations..."
In other words, the global ambitions of the Pentagon
-- and the soaring budgets that go with those ambitions
-- are beyond our means (not that that means much
to the Bush administration). The
report's criticism evidently irritated Secretary
of Defense Rumsfeld and so the report, already posted
at a government website, was promptly taken down
after the Defense Department claimed it contained
classified information, especially "a reference
to ongoing negotiations over U.S. bases in Bulgaria
and Romania." (As it happened, the Federation
of American Scientists had posted the report at
its own site, where it remains available to all,
according to Secrecy News.)
Perhaps in part because of BRAC and the Commission
report, numerous bits and pieces of Pentagon basing
plans -- even for normally invisible Romania and
Bulgaria -- could be spied in (or at the edge of)
the news. For instance, last week our man in Kabul,
President Hamid Karzai, came calling on Washington,
amid some grim disputes between "friends."
On the eve of his departure, reacting to a New
York Times' article about a U.S. Army report on
the torture, abuse and murder of Afghan prisoners
in American hands, he essentially demanded that
the Bush administration turn over Afghan prisoners,
both in-country and in Guantánamo, to his
government, and give it greater say in U.S. military
operations in his country. For
anyone who has followed the Bush administration,
these are not just policy no-no's but matters verging
on faith-based obsession. Having with dogged determination
bucked the International Criminal Court, an institution
backed by powerful allies, Bush officials were not
about to stand for such demands from a near non-nation
we had "liberated" and then stocked with
military bases, holding areas, detention camps,
and prisons of every sort.
Not long after Karzai made this demand, "an
American official alarmed at the slow pace of poppy
eradication" leaked to the New York Times a
cable written from our Kabul embassy to Secretary
of State Rice on May 13 indicating that his weak
leadership -- previously he had only been lauded
by administration officials -- was responsible for
Afghanistan's rise to preeminence as the model drug-lord-state
of the planet. ("Although President Karzai
has been well aware of the difficulty in trying
to implement an effective ground [poppy] eradication
program, he has been unwilling to assert strong
leadership, even in his own province of Kandahar.")
And then, of course, State Department officials
publicly came to his defense. On
arrival in the U.S., he found himself refuting this
charge rather than on the offensive demanding the
rectification of American wrongs in his country.
At a White House welcoming ceremony, our President
promptly publicly denied Karzai the Afghan prisoners
and any further control over American military actions
in his country. As in Iraq, the Bush administration's
working definition of "sovereignty" for
others is: Stay out of our way. ("As I explained
to [President Karzai], that our policy is one where
we want the people to be sent home [from Guantánamo],
but, two, we've got to make sure the facilities
are there -- facilities where these people can be
housed and fed and guarded.")
But the Afghan president was granted something
so much more valuable -- this was, after all, the
essence of his trek to the U.S. -- a "strategic
partnership" with the United States which he
"requested." (The actual language: "Afghanistan
proposed that the United States join in a strategic
partnership and establish close cooperation.")
Great idea, Hamid! And quite an original one.
Of course, the term is ours, not Karzai's, and
we already have such "partnerships" with
numerous nations including Japan, Germany, and Greece.
But Afghanistan is none of the above. The "partners"
in this relationship are the country that likes
to think of itself as the planet's "sole superpower"
-- its global "sheriff," the "new
Rome," the new imperial "Britain"
(Britain itself now being a distinctly junior partner
providing a few of the "native" troops
so necessary for our Iraqi adventure) -- and the
country that, in the UN's Human Development Report
2004, was ranked the sixth worst off on Earth, perched
just above five absolute basket-case nations in
sub-Saharan Africa. This is the equivalent of declaring
a business partnership between a Rockefeller and
the local beggar.
In the somewhat vague, four-page Joint Declaration
of the United States-Afghanistan Strategic Partnership
issued by the two partners while Karzai was in Washington,
along with the usual verbiage about spreading democracy
and promoting human -- perhaps a typo for "inhuman"
-- rights in Afghanistan and throughout the Central
Asian region, there were these brief lines:
"It is understood that in order to achieve
the objectives contained herein, U.S. military forces
operating in Afghanistan will continue to have access
to Bagram Air Base and its facilities, and facilities
at other locations as may be mutually determined
and that the U.S. and Coalition forces are to continue
to have the freedom of action required to conduct
appropriate military operations based on consultations
and pre-agreed procedures."
The Afghans may get no prisoners and not an extra
inch of control over U.S. military movements --
note that "continue to have the freedom of
action required... based on... pre-agreed procedures"
-- but they do get to give, which is such an ennobling
feeling. What they are offering up is that "access"
to Bagram Air Base "and facilities at other
locations." (The language
is charming. You would think that the Americans
were at the gates of the old Soviet air base waiting
to be let in, not that it was already fully occupied
and a major American military facility.)
Nothing "permanent," of course, especially
since Afghan students in recent protests over mistreated
Korans at Guantánamo were also complaining
about American bases in their country; and no future
treaties, since Karzai might have a tough time with
parliament over that one. Afghans tend to be irrationally
touchy, not to say mean-spirited, on national sovereignty
issues. (Think of the Soviet occupation.) Just a
simple, honestly offered "request" and
a "joint declaration" -- somebody must
have been smoking one -- that quietly extends our
rights to base troops in Afghanistan until some
undefined moment beyond the end of time.
Spanning the World
Base news has been trickling in from the 'stans
of Central Asia -- formerly SSRs of the old Soviet
Union -- as well. After the Tulip Revolution in
Kyrgyzstan, for instance, we rushed an official
into the country -- no, not the Secretary of State
to celebrate the spread of democracy, but our globe-trotting
Secretary of Defense, who hustled into that otherwise
obscure land just to make sure that Ganci Air Base
(named not for some Kyrgyzstani hero, but for Peter
Ganci, the New York City fire chief killed in the
Sept. 11, 2001 attacks) in the capital of Bishkek
was still ours to use (as it is).
In the Uzbekistan of grim, authoritarian Islam
Karimov, our ally in the war on terror (who received
his third visit from Rumsfeld in 2004), the Bush
administration, we're told, is wrestling with a
most difficult problem in the wake of a government
massacre of demonstrators: bases versus values (John
Hall, "U.S. wrestles with bases vs. values
in Uzbekistan," Richmond Times-dispatch, May
29).
After all, while the White House values the spread
of democracy, the Pentagon considers Camp Stronghold
Freedom, the former Soviet base we now occupy there
-- "The air-conditioned tents at the base...
are laid out on a grid, along streets named for
the thoroughfares of New York: Fifth Avenue, Long
Island Expressway, Wall Street." -- to be valuable
indeed. And then there's that handy matter of stowing
away prisoners. Uzbekistan
is one of the places where the U.S. has reportedly
been practicing "extraordinary rendition"
-- the kidnapping of terrorist subjects and the
dispatching of them to countries happy to torture
them for us. Here's a guess: whether Karimov
(to whom the Chinese leadership gave a giant smooch
last week) remains in office or not, in the modern
"Great Game" in Central Asia expect us
to remain in the aptly named Camp Stronghold Freedom.
(I'd like to see someone try to pry us out.)
In Africa this last week, there was news too. The
Bush administration was promising to pour ever more
"soldiers and money into its anti-terrorism
campaign [there], including in Algeria and chaotic
Nigeria, both oil-rich nations where radical Islam
has a following." ("Oil-rich"
is the key phrase in that sentence, in case you
missed it.) "The new campaign,"
writes Edward Harris of AP, "will target nine
north and west African nations and seek to bolster
regional cooperation."
American officials, calling for a "budgetary
increase" for anti-terror military aid to the
area, are now evidently comparing the vast "ungoverned"
desert expanses of the Sahara "to Afghanistan
during Taliban rule, when Osama bin Laden's al-Qaida
terror group thrived." Talk about ambition.
Quick, someone report them to the Overseas Basing
Commission before anything else happens!
While the Pentagon is planning to shut-down bases
all over the U.S., it's like a shopaholic. It just
can't help itself abroad. Rumors of future base
openings are multiplying fast -- base workers from
Connecticut, New Jersey, and South Dakota take note
for future travel planning -- in the impoverished
former Warsaw Pact lands of Southeastern Europe,
which are also conveniently nearer to the oil heartlands
of the planet than our old Cold War bases in places
like Germany.
UPI, for instance, reported last week that the
Pentagon was eyeing bases on Romania's scenic Black
Sea coast and that the Romanians (whose plans for
a world class, Disney-style Dracula theme park seem
to have fallen through) were eager to be of well-paid
service in the war on terror. Then
a Romanian general confirmed that base negotiations
were indeed well along: "General Valeriu Nicut,
head of the strategic planning division for the
Romanian general staff, said on Wednesday after
an international military conference on security
issues that the U.S. would set up two military bases
in Romania within one year." He
was promptly demoted for his efforts. (Perhaps it
was as a result of Rumsfeld's pique.) No one on
either side is denying, however, that base negotiations
are underway.
Meanwhile in neighboring Bulgaria, the Defense
minister was claiming that the U.S. would soon occupy
three bases in that land and the Deputy Defense
Minister, chairing the talks none of us knew were
going on between the two countries, "told journalists
that Washington is also interested in placing storehouses,"
assumedly to be filled with pre-positioned military
supplies, there too. Earlier in the year, the U.S.
head of NATO forces had spoken of the possibility
of our occupying five bases in Bulgaria -- and all
of them (so far) are hanging onto their jobs.
To the Southeast, there were yet more basing rumors
in a volatile area where, last week, a massive 1,700
kilometer-long pipeline bringing Caspian oil from
Baku in the former SSR of Azerbaijan to Ceyhan in
Turkey via the former SSR of Georgia, was officially
opened for business. The pipeline, as Pepe Escobar
of Asia Times pointed out, is little short of a
"sovereign state"; its route, carefully
constructed to cut both Russia and Iran out of the
Caspian oil loop, ends "right next door to
the massive American airbase at Incirlik" in
Turkey. The presidents of all three countries attended
the opening ceremonies in Baku, while an Azerbaijan
newspaper reported that the "U.S. and Azerbaijani
governments on April 12 agreed on the deployment
of U.S. military bases... Under the agreement, the
U.S. forces will be deployed in Kurdamir, Nasosnaya
and Guyullah. Various types of aircraft will be
deployed at all the three bases, which have runways
modernized for U.S. military needs." The report
was promptly denied by the Azerbaijani defense ministry,
which under the circumstances probably means little.
In neighboring Georgia, our goals have been somewhat
more modest. With U.S. military trainers already
in and out of the country to help bring Georgian
forces up to speed in the war in terror, and --
thanks to the Rose Revolution -- a friendly government
in place (the salaries of whose top officials are
now "supplemented" by a fund set up by
George Soros), a push had been on to rid the country
of its last two Russian military bases. This week
an agreement to vacate them by 2008 was announced.
Bases in Iraq: 2003-2005
And mind you, all of the above was just the minor
basing news of the week. The biggest news had to
do with Iraq. Bradley Graham of the Washington Post
published a rare piece in our press on American
bases in that country (Commanders Plan Eventual
Consolidation of U.S. Bases in Iraq). As a start,
he revealed that, at the moment,
the "coalition" has a staggering 106 bases
in the country, none with less than 500 troops on
hand, and that figure doesn't even include
"four detention facilities and several convoy
support centers for servicing the long daily truck
runs from Kuwait into Iraq."
With just over 160,000 coalition troops on hand
in Iraq that would mean an average of about 1,600
to a base. Of course, some of these bases also house
Iraqi troops, various Iraqis needed by U.S. forces
-- translators, for instance, who, when living outside
such bases, are being killed off by insurgents at
what seems to be a ferocious rate -- and some of
the hordes of contractors "reconstructing"
the country, including the thousands and thousands
of hired guns who have flooded in and are constantly
at risk. Some American bases like Camp Anaconda,
spread over 15 square miles near Balad (with two
swimming pools, a first-run movie theater, and a
fitness gym) or Camp Victory at the Baghdad International
Airport, are vast Vietnam-style encampments, elaborate
enough to be "permanent" indeed.
It is, by the way, a mystery of compelling proportions
that American journalists, more or less trapped
in their hotels when it comes to reporting on Iraqi
Iraq (given the dangers of the situation), have
seemed no less trapped when it comes to reporting
on important aspects of American Iraq. We know,
for instance, that even a year and a half ago the
American base construction program was already in
"the several billion dollar range," and
such bases had long been at the heart of Bush administration
dreams for the region; yet since April 2003 there
have been only a few very partial descriptions of
American bases in Iraq in the press -- and those
are largely to be found in non-mainstream places
or on-line.
Given what's generally available
to be read (or seen on the TV news), there is simply
no way most Americans could grasp just how deeply
we have been digging into Iraq. Take, for
instance, this description of Camp Victory offered
by Joshua Hammer in a Mother Jones magazine piece:
"Over the past year, KBR contractors have
built a small American city where about 14,000 troops
are living, many hunkered down inside sturdy, wooden,
air-conditioned bungalows called SEA (for Southeast
Asia) huts, replicas of those used by troops in
Vietnam. There's a Burger King, a gym, the country's
biggest PX -- and, of course, a separate compound
for KBR workers, who handle both construction and
logistical support. Although
Camp Victory North remains a work in progress today,
when complete, the complex will be twice the size
of Camp Bondsteel in Kosovo -- currently one of
the largest overseas posts built since the Vietnam
War."
There has not, to my knowledge, been a single descriptive
article in a major American paper during our two-year
occupation of Iraq that has focused on any one of
the American bases in that country and I don't believe
that the American public has any idea -- I certainly
didn't -- that there were at least 106 of them;
or, for that matter, that some of them already have
such a permanent feel to them; that they are, in
essence, facts-on-the-ground long before any negotiations
about them might begin with a "sovereign"
Iraqi government.
In any case, Graham reports that, according to
the latest Pentagon plans, we would focus our Iraqi
bases -- once called "enduring camps,"
now referred to as "contingency operating bases"
(but never, never use the word "permanent")
-- into four "hubs" ("BRAC for Iraq"),
none too close to major population centers -- "the
four are Tallil in the south, Al Asad in the west,
Balad in the center and either Irbil or Qayyarah
in the north."
"Several officers involved in drafting the
consolidation plan said it entailed the construction
of longer-lasting facilities at the sites, including
barracks and office structures made of concrete
block instead of the metal trailers and tin-sheathed
buildings that have become the norm at bigger U.S.
bases in Iraq.
"The new, sturdier buildings
will give the bases a more permanent character,
the officers acknowledged. But they said the consolidation
plan was not meant to establish a permanent U.S.
military presence in Iraq... The new buildings are
being designed to withstand direct mortar strikes,
according to a senior military engineer."
This plan is being presented
-- hilariously enough -- as part of a "withdrawal"
strategy. It seems we are (over what will
have to be interminable years) planning to turn
the other 100 or so bases over to the Iraqi military
(itself a bit of a problematic concept). For this,
of course, "no timetable exists." Once
the massive bulk of bases are let go, only those
4 (or -- see below -- possibly 5) bases will remain
to be dealt with; and, in that distant future, while
maintaining "access" to our former Iraqi
strongholds, we will withdraw to our bases in Kuwait
from which we will practice what one colonel interviewed
by Graham termed "strategic overwatch."
(Given the intensifying insurgency in Iraq, this
seems like nothing short of a Pentagon pipe dream.)
The future of a fifth base, the Camp Victory complex,
headquarters of the U.S. military in Iraq, remains
"unresolved." After all, who wouldn't
want to keep a massive complex on the edge of the
Iraqi capital, though the military has proven incapable
thus far of securing even the road that runs from
Camp Victory (and Baghdad International Airport)
into downtown Baghdad and the Green Zone. Today,
it is the "deadliest road in Iraq," perhaps
the most dangerous stretch of highway on the planet,
which of course says something symbolic about the
limits of the Pentagon's plans to garrison the globe.
Naturally, these four (or five) bases aren't "permanent,"
even if they are about to be built up to withstand
anything short of an atomic blast and have the distinct
look of permanency. The problem is, as Maj. Noelle
Briand, who heads a basing working group on the
U.S. command staff, commented to Graham, "Four
is as far as we've gone down in our planning."
The word "permanent" cannot be spoken
in part because all of the above decisions have
undoubtedly been taken without significant consultation
with the supposedly sovereign government of Iraq
with whom the Pentagon is undoubtedly just dying
to have one of those strategic partnerships as well
as a "status of forces agreement" or SOFA.
The SOFA is considered a future necessity since
it would essentially give American troops extraterritoriality
in Iraq, protecting them from prosecution for crimes
committed and offering them impunity in terms of
actions taken. No Iraqi government, however, could
at present negotiate such an agreement without losing
its last shred of popularity.
Still, congratulations to Graham for giving us
an important, if somewhat encoded, version of the
Bush administration's latest basing plans for Iraq.
But here's the catch, these "latest" Pentagon
plans look suspiciously like some rather well-worn
plans, now over two years old. Unfortunately, our
media has just about no institutional memory.
As it happens, though, I remember -- and what I
remember specifically is a New York Times front-page
piece, Pentagon Expects Long-Term Access to Four
Key Bases in Iraq, by Thom Shanker and Eric Schmitt
that was published on April 19, 2003, just as the
Bush administration's Iraq War seemed to be successfully
winding down. Since next to nothing else of significance
on the subject was written until Graham's piece
came out last week, it remains a remarkable document
as well as a fine piece of reporting. It began:
"The United States is planning a long-term
military relationship with the emerging government
of Iraq, one that would grant the Pentagon access
to military bases and project American influence
into the heart of the unsettled region, senior Bush
administration officials say.
"American military officials, in interviews
this week, spoke of maintaining perhaps four bases
in Iraq that could be used in the future: one at
the international airport just outside Baghdad;
another at Tallil, near Nasiriya in the south; the
third at an isolated airstrip called H-1 in the
western desert, along the old oil pipeline that
runs to Jordan; and the last at the Bashur air field
in the Kurdish north."
Let's just stop there and consider
for a moment. In April 2003, the Pentagon was looking
for long-term "access" to four bases;
at the end of May 2005, it's revealed that the Pentagon
is looking for long-term "access" to...
four bases. After two years and billions of dollars
worth of base construction, the general distribution
of these bases remains relatively unchanged. In
fact, the base chosen for the Shiite South at Tallil
remains the same.
One of the four bases mentioned in the Times' account
of 2003, at Baghdad International Airport, now Camp
Victory, is the "unresolved" fifth base
in the Post's 2005 account; in the West, H-1 has
been replaced by Al Asad in the same general area;
in the Kurdish North, Bashur (2003) has been replaced
by either Qayyarah or Irbil, approximately 50 kilometers
to the south; and Balad, north of Baghdad, is assumedly
the non-urban version of the 2003 Airport choice.
In other words, between 2003 and 2005, the numbers
and the general placement of these planned bases
seems to have remained more or less the same.
"In Afghanistan, and in Iraq," Shanker
and Schmitt wrote, "the American military will
do all it can to minimize the size of its deployed
forces, and there will probably never be an announcement
of permanent stationing of troops. Not permanent
basing, but permanent access is all that is required,
officials say." This was, of course, at a moment
when Bush administration neocons expected to draw
down American forces rapidly in a grateful, liberated
land.
Shanker and Schmitt then put the prospective Iraqi
bases into a larger global context, mentioning in
particular access to bases in Uzbekistan, Kyrgyzstan,
Romania, and Bulgaria, and adding:
"[T]here has been a concerted diplomatic and
military effort to win permission for United States
forces to operate from the formerly Communist nations
of Eastern Europe, across the Mediterranean, throughout
the Middle East and the Horn of Africa, and across
Central Asia, from the periphery of Russia to Pakistan's
ports on the Indian Ocean. It is a swath of Western
influence not seen for generations."
Three days after the Shanker/Schmitt report was
front-paged, Donald Rumsfeld strongly denied it
was so at a Pentagon news conference reported in
the Washington Post (U.S. Won't Seek Bases in Iraq,
Rumsfeld Says) by Bradley Graham. His piece began:
"Defense Secretary Donald
H. Rumsfeld said yesterday the United States is
unlikely to seek any permanent or 'long-term' bases
in Iraq because U.S. basing arrangements with other
countries in the region are sufficient... 'I have
never, that I can recall, heard the subject of a
permanent base in Iraq discussed in any meeting,'
Rumsfeld said... 'The likelihood of it seems to
me to be so low that it does not surprise me that
it's never been discussed in my presence -- to my
knowledge.'"
And, for the next two years, that was largely that.
The Times hasn't seriously revisited the story since,
despite the fact that their original front-page
piece was groundbreaking. You would think it a subject
worth returning to. After all, despite everything
that's happened between May 2003 ("Mission
Accomplished!") and the present disastrous
moment in Iraq, the Pentagon is still planning on
those four bases. Coincidence? Who knows, but might
it not be worth at least a blip on the inside pages
somewhere?
An Empire of Bases
As the Overseas Basing Commission indicated in
their recent report, such global basing plans are
nothing if not wildly ambitious and sure to be wildly
expensive (especially for a military bogged down
in fighting a fierce but not exactly superpower-sized
enemy in one part of a single Middle Eastern country).
When we take the bits and pieces of the global-base
puzzle that have sprung up like weeds between the
cracks in recent weeks and try to put them together
into a map of the Pentagon's globe, it looks rather
like the one described by Shanker and Schmitt in
2003.
Begin with those prospective bases in Romania and
Bulgaria (and while you're at it, toss in the ones
already in existence in the former Yugoslavia);
make your way southeastwards past "Pipelineistan,"
keeping your eye out for our Turkish bases and those
possible future ones in Azerbaijan; take in the
4 or 5 bases we'd like to hang onto in the embattled
Iraqi heartland of the Middle East (not to speak
of the ones we already control in Kuwait, Qatar,
Bahrain and elsewhere in the region); take a quick
glance at "oil-rich" North Africa for
a second, imagining what might someday be nailed
down there; then hop over base-less Axis of Evil
power Iran and land at Bagram Air Base (don't worry,
you have "access") or any of the other
unnamed ones in Afghanistan where we now have a
long-term foothold; don't forget the nearby Pakistani
air bases that Gen. Pervez Musharraf has given us
access to (or Diego Garcia, that British "aircraft
carrier" island in the Indian Ocean that's
all ours); add in our new Central Asian facilities;
plot it all out on a map and what you have is a
great infertile crescent of American military garrisons
extending from the old Soviet-controlled lands of
Eastern Europe to the old Soviet SSRs of Central
Asia, reaching from Russia's eastern border right
up to the border of China. This
is, of course, a map that more or less coincides
with the Middle Eastern and Caspian oil heartlands
of the planet.
Put in historical terms,
in the last decade-plus, as the pace of our foreign
wars has picked up, we've left behind, after each
of them, a new set of bases like the droppings of
some giant beast marking the scene with its scent.
Bases were dropped into Saudi Arabia and the small
Gulf emirates after our first Gulf War in 1991;
into the former Yugoslavia after the Kosovo air
war of 1999; into Pakistan, Afghanistan, and those
former Central Asian SSRs after the Afghan war of
2001; and into Iraq after the invasion of 2003.
War in Iraq, in turn, has spawned at least 106 bases
of various sizes and shapes; while a low-level but
ongoing guerilla conflict in Afghanistan has produced
a plethora of fire bases, outposts, air bases, and
detention centers of every sort. It's a matter of
bases and prisons where there is opposition. Just
bases where there isn't. This, it seems, is now
the American way in the world.
Most Americans, knowing next
to nothing about our global bases or the Pentagon's
basing policies, would undoubtedly be surprised
to learn that ours is an empire of bases. In fact,
our particular version of military empire is perhaps
unique: all "gunboats," no colonies. Nothing
has been of more concern to the Pentagon-centered
Bush administration abroad than bases, or of less
concern to our media at home. Despite two
years of catastrophic setbacks, the ambitions of
the Bush White House and the Pentagon evidently
remain remarkably unchanged and wildly ambitious
-- and, I suspect, the rule of inverse media interest
still holds.
Special research thanks go to Nick Turse.
Tom Engelhardt, editor of Tomdispatch.com,
is co-founder of the American Empire Project and
author of "The End of Victory Culture." |