Empire, Imperialism and other geo-political naughtiness

Geekpocket: I don't agree with that logic. First of all, it is morally absolutely detestible to even take that into your reasoning as a reason to invade a country, it may be a "plus", but it certainly shouldn't be a reason.
Also, I think that invading Afghanistan sent out an obvious signal anyway.

But I certainly hope that it isn't a signal. Why? Because I don't want to see the USA invade every single country with a link to terrorism.

Freeing the Iraqi was, undoubtedly, part of the reason. ANd anti-Saddam feelings on the side of Bush probably just as well. However, they weren't the main reasons, and I certailny don't think that it was all worth it.
 
I agree with you that it's not a "nice" line of reasoning. It's an idea to instill fear into terrorists, not pleasant thoughts. But I wasn't arguing the morality of such thinking. Regardless of the morality of it and what light it puts the U.S. in, the logic of it makes sense.

I don't think I'd like to see us invade every single country either. That would be a lot of work for the military and not very feasible, constantly attacking country after country with our limited resources. But what I want to happen and what needs to happen are often entirely different. I'm not saying we need to invade every single country, but instead respond to threats as they become apparent.
 
Guys, remember that whole, "let's break the Antiballistic missile treaty" thing that Bush pulled. ANd then there was that Anti-missile defense idea he came up with that was going to costs billions of dollars-

This was before the whole 9-11 and such.

Well, here is an update-

Oh and check the website too- https://www.economist.com/world/na/PrinterFriendly.cfm?Story_ID=2266006

An American dream

Dec 4th 2003 | LONDON AND WASHINGTON, DC
From The Economist print edition


AP

Next year, the United States unveils its anti-missile defence system. It cannot make Americans invulnerable, but it may make them safer—eventually

Get article background

FOR half a century, America's leaders have dreamed of erecting a shield above their nation to protect it from incoming ballistic missiles. Such a shield would help their country to recapture the sense of untouchability that its geography, weak neighbours and power inculcated and sustained—until the advent of “mutually assured destruction”. The habitual American faith in technology has helped to make the ambition seem feasible: if America can put a man on the moon, then why shouldn't it “hit a bullet with a bullet”, as some like to characterise the task of shooting down a missile in space?

Next year, ten interceptors designed to destroy long-range ballistic missiles fired by rogue regimes will be lowered into their silos in California and Alaska. George Bush will doubtless tell the electorate that America is closer than ever before to achieving the dream; his main Democratic challengers will claim the system costs too much and provides little protection. Will Americans really be any safer?

Most Americans' idea of what missile defence involves was shaped by Ronald Reagan's iconic “Star Wars” speech of 1983: “I call upon the scientific community in our country, those who gave us nuclear weapons, to turn their great talents now to the cause of mankind and world peace: to give us the means of rendering nuclear weapons impotent and obsolete.” Mr Reagon's famous exhortation has contributed to two popular misconceptions about America's current missile-defence effort. One is that it will be based in space; the other is that it will be able to thwart a multiple missile strike by China or Russia.

In fact, the system to be unveiled by Mr Bush's Missile Defence Agency (MDA) next year is a humbler thing, though still hugely ambitious (see diagram). In theory, a threatening missile will be detected by satellite soon after its launch, and its trajectory tracked by radar. Then an interceptor will be despatched from Alaska or California; out in space, the “exo-atmospheric kill vehicle” (EKV) will separate from its booster, and collide with the attacking missile at around 15,000 miles per hour.

The small number of interceptors scheduled to be deployed—ten next year, with another ten to follow—are intended to provide only a limited defence against an attack by a small hostile power (or possibly an accidental launch by a non-enemy). At first, the system will be able to counter only threats emanating from north-east Asia: read North Korea. By 2005, though, improved radars should also ensure coverage of the Middle East, in case Iran or someone else goes nuclear.

This system, based on shooting down a limited number of missiles during the mid-course phase of their trajectory (ie, between the “boost” and “terminal” phases), is more or less what was proposed by Bill Clinton—whose plans were lambasted for years by Republicans for being insufficiently ambitious. Michael O'Hanlon of the Brookings Institution, a think-tank, quips that the system should be named after Mr Clinton, since much of the necessary spending was done on his watch.

In theory, Mr Bush will move on from this relatively modest beginning to field an array of different defences, able to tackle missiles of every range and in every stage of their flight. The next element scheduled to become operational, in 2005, is designed to destroy short- and medium-range missiles with interceptors fired from ships. The Patriot system, for shooting such missiles down in their “terminal” phase, is already in service, though with mixed success. Technologies designed to tackle missiles in their “boost phase” are still immature, to say the least. Space-based weapons remain a distant prospect.

So how good is the system that will come into operation next year? A senior defence official concedes that it is “modest” and “rudimentary”. The flight tests that have been conducted so far have produced mixed results. Critics allege that those tests have been too easy, failing to simulate the speed and altitude of a real-life enemy missile and the sort of decoys it might release. Some sceptics claim that such counter-measures would render the whole enterprise useless, though North Korea, for example, could probably only manage unsophisticated ones.

As the MDA protests, it is normal for a test sequence to start off easy and become more taxing. What is less normal, says Philip Coyle—formerly the Pentagon's director of operational test and evaluation, now at the Centre for Defence Information—is for a weapons system to be deployed before undergoing more realistic trials. He reckons America's chances of shooting down an enemy missile next year, if peradventure it needed to, are “practically zero”. Others say the system will suffer the same fate as a previous limited one, deployed in North Dakota in 1975 and decommissioned as soon as it was introduced. The system's Pentagon masters admit the chances of success would depend on, among other things, how many incoming missiles there were, but are still “fairly confident” that it could do the job.

Given all this, Mr Bush's critics allege that politics, not science, is behind what they label a “rush to failure”. The General Accounting Office (GAO), a congressional watchdog, has hinted as much in successive reports: it commented pointedly that, though short-cutting testing norms “may help the MDA meet the president's deadline, it also increases the potential that some elements might not work as intended.” The GAO has also speculated that more haste now may equal less speed in deploying a viable system, and higher costs. Andrew Krepinevich of the Centre for Strategic and Budgetary Assessments, a military think-tank, argues that the MDA should be concentrating on research, rather than locking itself into a system that may prove obsolescent. The MDA insists that it tells Mr Bush what is feasible, and that when he authorised deployment last December he was acting on its advice.

Shield or scarecrow?
Missile defence is certainly a cause as dear to Mr Bush's party as it is anathema to many Democrats. Many Republicans believe that the mere idea of “Star Wars” helped to defeat the Soviet Evil Empire. Just as passionately, many Democrats say the scheme is wasteful and misconceived. All their main candidates, except Joe Lieberman, say that money should be diverted to other things. Does politics or national security explain Mr Bush's hurry?

Both sides argue that the other is stuck in a cold-war mindset. Missile-defence sceptics say the enthusiasts have an over-developed, Reaganite fear of long-range missiles, which only a handful of countries are known to possess, none of them likely to attack America. (Short- and medium-range missiles are a different matter.) Nowadays, argue Democrats, the threat comes from terrorists: there are much cheaper, handier and less incriminating ways for weapons of mass destruction (WMD) to be despatched by al-Qaeda, or a rogue despot, than by ballistic missile—such as in a suitcase. The billions being handed to the MDA could be better spent on humbler things such as port security, and on countering WMD proliferation.

On the question of cost, the Democrats have a good case. The MDA will consume around $9 billion a year for the next five years: the first tranche was authorised last week. (Total defence spending will rise in that period from $400 billion a year to around $500 billion.) But the cost of actually deploying and operating the various systems on the MDA drawing board is unknown. A figure of $1 trillion was recently floated by one think-tank.

Supporters scoff at such guesstimates: Congress, they say, would never sign off on such a sum. One insider describes the MDA's budget as “perhaps the most scrutinised in the Department of Defence”. They maintain that America is already spending money on countering terrorism, and can afford the MDA's bill. Frank Gaffney, of the Centre for Security Policy, says that even a rudimentary defence against the missile threat “beats the hell out of nothing, which is what we have now.”

The enthusiasts say missile defence will help to dissuade some countries from developing missiles, and help deter any that consider firing them, by reducing the prospects of a successful strike. True, a mad dictator embroiled in an unwinnable war might dispatch his missiles anyway; but then, they might be stopped. And America's own freedom of action will be increased: it could, for instance, intervene in a regional conflict without fear of ballistic blackmail—though if its allies and overseas bases are not protected, which at first they won't be, it may still feel restricted.

The main argument in favour of missile defences, like the main argument against them, is that the world has changed. Deterrence, its supporters say, can no longer be relied upon as it was during the cold war: new and undeterrable risks have emerged. And America has already been caught on the hop by the pace of its adversaries' technological advances: in 1998, North Korea sent a missile sailing over Japan. Perhaps it will produce one able to strike America. Maybe a Taliban-style regime will emerge in a country that possesses such weapons.

On one point, at least, the advocates have been vindicated. America's plans required it to withdraw last year from the Anti-Ballistic Missile Treaty of 1972, under which both it and the Soviet Union had agreed not to build comprehensive defences against each other's missiles (though the abortive North Dakota system was permitted). Fears that this would start a new arms race with Russia and China have proved groundless—though that may change if the system expands to neutralise threats from those two countries.

Next year, the dream of perfect national defences in an imperfect world may finally seem within reach. Americans will at last have something to show for all the talk and money that have been expended on missile defence. They are unlikely to be much safer at first, though they may be when the system evolves. The realism and the costs of the dream will be keenly debated in the presidential campaign. Should the North Koreans or Iranians cause another tremor—or should terrorists hit mainland America again—those arguments will be voiced louder and sooner.
 
News from Afghanistan-

Looks like things are still getting tough. We got Saddam. WHat the hell happened to Osama?


http://www.economist.com/world/asia/PrinterFriendly.cfm?Story_ID=2288738

Afghanistan

Making enemies

Dec 11th 2003 | POL-E-SADARY
From The Economist print edition


The high price of hunting the Taliban

Get article background

IT WAS a bonus for the Taliban. Last week, an American air strike aimed at the house of a suspected militant in Ghazni province, deep in the disaffected south of Afghanistan, shredded nine children playing marbles in the earth nearby. A local labourer, who had recently returned home from Iran, was also thought to have been killed, while the targeted man appeared to get away. Another strike in the neighbouring Paktia province failed to find the suspect but killed six more children.

The Americans apologised, while proceeding with their biggest operation to date in the south—dubbed “Avalanche”—to chase insurgents before winter sets in. Yet similar operations over the past two years have achieved little. The American-led coalition has so far dismally failed to deliver security to the south. Innocents are as likely to be picked up—or apart—as enemies. Meanwhile the leaders remain at large. Mullah Omar, the Taliban leader, is said to operate in the Pakistani city of Quetta.

Osama bin Laden is also still at large. Having failed to catch or kill him, the Americans now say that keeping him isolated and on the run is almost as useful. Most Kabul insiders assume that he is alive but have divergent views as to his whereabouts. Some say he is living in a suburb of Karachi, in Pakistan. The latest speculation puts him in north-eastern Afghanistan, perhaps in the eastern districts of Nuristan province.

The American-led coalition recently sent 1,000 troops into Nuristan in an operation called “Mountain Resolve”, targeting supporters of Gulbuddin Hikmatyar, a renegade warlord allied to the al-Qaeda leader. The coalition says the mission is to promote “freedom of movement and commerce” in the region, but Nuristani elders claim that elected representatives from western Nuristan were prevented from travelling to this week's constitutional loya jirga in Kabul because of the military activity. These delegates were already reluctant to pass through the lands of their sworn enemies to the south, whom they accused of feeding the Americans faulty intelligence. That may explain what appeared to be an American air strike on the house of a Kabul loyalist in Nuristan on October 31st, which killed eight people, including children asleep in bed.

Nuristanis are a defiant bunch. They were the first Afghans to rise up against the Soviet occupation. Much of the province leans towards radical Islam, and some of its mullahs were educated at Saudi-influenced religious schools in Pakistan. But that does not automatically mean that they support Mr bin Laden. And even if Mr Hikmatyar's thugs hid him, he would have a hard time moving around. “He does not know our ways, our languages. We would spot him immediately,” says one elder.


also -


http://www.economist.com/agenda/PrinterFriendly.cfm?Story_ID=2281858

Afghanistan’s long journey

Dec 15th 2003
From The Economist Global Agenda


Afghanistan’s loya jirga (grand assembly) is meeting to approve a new constitution that sets the stage for elections next summer. Though stability is a distant prospect in many parts of the country, Afghans are feeling a little more optimistic

Jonathan Ledgard

IF AFGHANISTAN ever becomes a democracy with peace throughout the land, Sunday December 14th may be remembered as the date when it started to get serious about its future. This is the date when the loya jirga, or grand assembly, began a meeting, due to last several weeks, to approve a constitution for Afghanistan. Under this constitution, elections for a national assembly are due to be held next June. Afghanistan, still in turmoil after the American-led invasion two years ago to topple the Taliban regime, badly needs a success. Will this be it?

So far the auguries are hopeful. A draft of the proposed constitution, published on November 3rd, has been generally well received. Liberals approve its clauses on civil law; clerics note that the law has to be conducted on Islamic principles. But how a constitution is interpreted is what matters: after all, the Soviet Union under Stalin had what seemed a blameless constitution. At least the new Afghan constitution seems to have a better chance of being respected than earlier ones, in 1923, 1964, 1976, 1987 and 1990, whose luckless draftsmen discovered that simply writing down intentions does not necessarily make them so.

Of the 500 dignitaries who are meeting in the capital, Kabul, 450 have been elected in their local districts and another 50 have been appointed by Afghanistan’s interim president, Hamid Karzai. Most are elders of the tribes that run much of Afghanistan at a domestic level. Their stern faces under large beards can be a depressing sight to outsiders but, whatever their appearance, their followers will have given them a mandate for peace and reconstruction.

There may be long, wearisome arguments about the detail of the constitution: that it is not Islamic enough, that it provides for votes for women (although women’s organisations complain that there is no guarantee in the constitution for women’s equality). But it is likely that the document in roughly its present form will be formally approved when the loya jirga concludes its business. Everyone’s minds are now on the elections planned for June.

On November 30th, the United Nations, which is organising the elections, began registering voters in the city of Kandahar. A day later, registration offices were opened in seven other cities, including Kabul. All citizens over 18 by June 20th next year can register. The UN reckons that 10.5m will be eligible, out of a population of 25m. To meet the sensitivities of men opposed to giving women the vote, there are separate registration arrangements for each sex. The run-up to the elections is expected to be in a pattern familiar to westerners, with parties pursuing hopeful, or hopeless, policies—right, left or centre.

All this may sound reassuringly normal. Whether it will turn out that way depends on Afghanistan being made more secure during the coming months. At present, large areas of the country are considered dangerous because of fighting between rival factions or because they are the hunting grounds of Taliban guerrillas and their militant supporters. Almost every day there are clashes between security forces and rebels. Sometimes, in the security forces’ eagerness to seek out the Taliban, things go appallingly wrong, as they did recently when 15 children died in two separate American airstrikes.

It is reckoned that around 400 people have died in Afghanistan in the past three months as a result of the fighting. Not even aid workers are safe. Twenty-six Afghan aid workers and two foreigners are known to have been killed since March. Last month, a Frenchwoman working for the UN refugee agency was shot dead in the centre of the supposedly secure town of Ghazni, about 160km (100 miles) from Kabul, in the middle of the day. “If it can happen in Ghazni”, said a colleague, “it can happen anywhere.”



Notwithstanding the best efforts of the UN, the elections due in June could be put off until the autumn


On a visit to Afghanistan in November, Hillary Clinton, now an American senator, called for more troops to be sent to the country. No doubt they would be welcome. However, Afghanistan does have 11,600 combat troops, most of them American, searching for Taliban fighters and other militants. Another 5,500 troops from various countries, under NATO command, patrol Kabul. Some observers feel that some troops should be moved from “safer” areas to the more dangerous zones, even at the risk of taking casualties.

On December 4th, Donald Rumsfeld, the American defence secretary, paid a one-day visit to Afghanistan to see if it could be made more secure. Some German members of the NATO forces in Kabul have ventured into rural areas and Mr Rumsfeld wants more to go. But he says, reluctantly, that such a general move is “some distance out”.

Then there is the drugs problem. Although much of the heroin made from Afghanistan’s poppy crop (up 6% this year) is destined for the streets of New York and London, some of it finds its way into a growing domestic market. Drugs and guns do not make a good mix. It also has to be said that democracy cannot be hurried. Notwithstanding the best efforts of the UN, the elections due in June could be put off until the autumn; a UN official admitted as much last week.

Despite all these worries, a recent opinion poll carried out by a group from various non-governmental organisations identified a degree of optimism among Afghans. The pollsters wisely avoided areas of fighting, but nevertheless polled people in eight key locations. The majority said that although much of the country was insecure, they believed stability was slowly returning. Nearly 90% said they planned to vote in the coming elections. “Very encouraging,” said Mr Karzai, relieved that at last a messenger had brought him good news.
 
A modern treasure hunt. This is kind of cool, if long.

Bactrian gold

A treasure hunt

Dec 18th 2003 | KABUL AND SHEBERGHAN

The case of Afghanistan's missing cache

THE mound lies just beyond the oasis town of Sheberghan in northern Afghanistan, on the plain that slips south to the Hindu Kush and north to the banks of the Amu Darya, or Oxus. This was once Bactria, where the Hellenic world briefly touched and intertwined with the worlds of the Indus and the Siberian steppe. Greeks prospered here for a century or so after the death of Alexander the Great, in 323BC, and then were driven off. The mound is anonymous now, barely noticeable from the road. It stands three metres (ten feet) high, 100 metres in diameter, lopped square like a Celtic barrow, the whole of it overgrown with pale weeds. Locals named it Tillya Tepe, or Hill of Gold, long before the Soviet archaeologists came and revealed its treasures.

That was in the winter of 1978-79, just before Afghanistan descended into 23 years of war, leaving 1.7m dead. In the last days before the beginning of that nightmare, a Soviet archaeological team led by a Greek-Russian, Victor Sariyannidis, unearthed 21,000 pieces of gold in six burial chambers within Tillya Tepe. The hoard had belonged to the rich Kushan nomads buried there around the time of Christ. It had lain undisturbed for two millennia.

They were ecstatic at first, but, as the months passed and still they were picking the gold from the freezing clay, they became increasingly frightened. The value of their discovery was such that the Afghan army had to be called in to guard the site. KGB men from Moscow began to take an interest. Political officers arrived too, keen to use the dig as an advertisement for fraternal relations between the Soviet Union and the new communist regime in Kabul.

The burial chambers were simple, and their flimsy ceilings soon collapsed. But the treasure was extraordinary, partly Siberian Altai, partly Greek. In one chamber a horse skull was found; in another, in the mouth of a young woman, was a silver coin, the toll due to Charon for her passage across the Styx into the underworld.



Coruscating Kushans
Much of the treasure adorned what was left of the decomposed bodies. Indeed, every bone seemed to have had the Midas touch: anything in contact had been turned to gold. The Kushan nomads had a weakness for all that was flash or gaudy. They had no higher ambition than to dazzle from afar as they dashed across the steppe. Semi-spherical gold plaquettes stitched to the burial robes and kilts were taken by the bucketload from vertebrae and femurs. The cloth itself had largely decayed—except for the weft, which had been of gold thread, indestructible even to the burrowing rodents that had tried to tug it away. The sandals too were of gold.

The other treasures in the mound were no less glittering. A model tree fashioned of gold and hung with fruit of pearls. A salver grooved in tangerine segments and inscribed in Greek. A griffin cut into milk-white chalcedony. Pendants of agate, garnet, turquoise and cornelian. Sharpened boar tusks set in gold. A representation of Aphrodite according to Bactrian tastes: stern and plump with small, thrust-out breasts. A man riding a dolphin upon a belt buckle. A gold crown that could be taken apart and packed in a saddlebag. A Chinese mirror. Dragons with wings of turquoise mauling leopards down the length of a gold scabbard. Coins from Rome, Parthia and India. Bits and bridles in Siberian style and studded with gems, the better to show off the flight of the horses that wore them.

All of this Bactrian gold, as it has come to be called, was painstakingly photographed and inventoried by the Soviet team and signed over to Afghanistan's National Museum in Kabul in 1979. It was last seen in 1989 when President Muhammad Najibullah showed it to foreign diplomats to prove it had not been taken by the retreating Russians. Then it vanished. Najibullah claimed to have set it in the national vaults, but no one could verify that. Afghanistan collapsed into civil war.

By this time, shady foreigners trading arms for emeralds and opium had got wind of the Bactrian gold. Some went after it, but without success. Pessimists thought the treasure had been melted down, or perhaps smuggled out of Kabul by the mujahideen—Islamic fighters—or hidden by disaffected communists.

When the Taliban—self-styled Muslim students—took Kabul in 1996, their first port of call was Najibullah's hiding-place. There the former communist leader was beaten senseless and castrated, before being dragged behind a pick-up around the old royal palace and then hanged. Whatever he knew of the gold died with him.

The next place the Taliban went was the central bank. Da Afghanistan Bank, as it is known, was built in 1931. Despite everything—a bomb exploded outside it in 2002, killing dozens—the bank still has traces of 1930s style. About a dozen senior Taliban came swinging through the revolving door with its inlaid brass and up the broad stairs to the walnut-panelled offices of the governor, says one of the bank's vault-keepers. This man—call him Mr Mustafa for safety's sake—was asked to show the intruders the vaults, not the one for everyday use under the main building but the one used for national treasure in the grounds of the nearby presidency.

Bank officials were reluctant to let the Taliban enter. A certain protocol had to be followed, they protested. A gun was held to Mr Mustafa's head, and another guard was pistol-whipped. “We opened the vault only when we saw they were serious about killing us,” explains another official.



The rape of the lock
Mr Mustafa opened the vault's door at gunpoint. The raiders were worried that the retreating forces loyal to Najibullah had taken the country's gold reserves with them. They entered and took measure of the gold bars. They were all there. The raiders relaxed. Mr Mustafa was charged with locking the door behind them on the way out. “Something happened to me just then,” he said. “I thought to myself that this gold doesn't belong to these men. It belongs to all the people of Afghanistan. So I put the key in and turned it backwards.” There was a snap. A fragment of the key remained in the lock. Mr Mustafa left it there. It was never discovered by the Taliban. Lucky for Mr Mustafa: he was to be jailed for three months and 17 days by the Taliban for another misdemeanour. Discovery would have meant execution.

When the Taliban briefly reopened the National Museum, in May 2001, there was almost nothing left to show. The zealots' campaign of smashing statues depicting living forms had recently resulted in the destruction of two enormous Buddhas dating back to between the second and fifth centuries, in the province of Bamiyan. The vandalism in Kabul had been just as grave. The museum had been shelled and plundered by all sides during the civil war. Its collection of 30,000 or so coins was gone. So too were the precious Bagram ivories depicting swirling naked courtesans, dug up by a French team in 1937.

But where was the Bactrian gold? Certainly not in the museum. Had it been sold? None of it had appeared on the open market. That could mean it was safe—or that it had been melted down without trace. Mr Sariyannidis had last seen it in 1982. He could not believe it lost. “It is simply not possible that artefacts of such value can just disappear in front of the eyes of the world,” he said. In Afghanistan it was indeed possible.

The Taliban made no further attempt to get into the presidency vault until November 12th 2001, the eve of the liberation of Kabul. Then a crew of the most senior commanders still in the city descended on the central bank. They opened the everyday vault easily enough, stealing dollar bills worth $5.2m, and Pakistani rupees and local currency worth another $800,000. Then they moved on to the presidency vault, opening two sets of doors before reaching a third door behind which the bullion was stored. Colleagues on the streets were already being lynched. Overhead, American planes were dropping bombs. The forces of the Northern Alliance, the foot-soldiers for the Americans, were on the Shomali plain above Kabul, preparing to enter the city the next day.

Yet the Taliban commanders worked the bullion door for three hours. Keys were tried in vain. A locksmith was brought, but was unable to see the shard of broken metal from Mr Mustafa's key that jammed the lock. Crowbars and hammers were useless. Dynamite was considered and dismissed: it might have brought down the roof. Eventually the raiders fled, carrying only the $6m from the central bank.

Kabul was rid of the Taliban. Life settled down. Mr Mustafa shaved off his beard. Still nothing was heard of the Bactrian gold. No one came forward. Officials who may have known something remained silent. “I will not speak about this,” said the director of the National Museum coolly. “Too dangerous,” agreed jittery members of the new government.



A turn-up for the book
Then, in early August, a senior banker started to talk in confidence. Some months before, he said, he had been charged with clearing out the upper level of the presidency vault to make way for quantities of newly printed notes of the local currency. His men shifted crates of worthless Soviet-era coinage from one cage to reveal ten tin trunks set back in the corner. “These were the kind of cheap trunks you use for clothes. They were padlocked. We examined the seals. It was the Bactrian gold.”

The secret held for a while. Then, on August 28th, the bullion door was at last opened, for the first time since Mr Mustafa had turned the key backwards in 1996. A painstaking local locksmith had succeeded in picking the lock. Afghanistan's president, Hamid Karzai, was present for the opening, along with the central bank's governor, the finance minister and the justice minister. A television camera was allowed in. Mr Karzai was filmed holding a gold bar. “Everything is safe,” he said. In all there was $90m in gold bars and coins and another $20m in cash, mostly sterling.

The Bactrian gold was also safe, said ministers. They claimed to have seen it. That was untrue. The trunks remained unopened, since the keeper of the treasure had died, and a successor had yet to be appointed. But the gold was indeed safe.

The Taliban commanders had passed it by. They could easily have forced the cage and stolen it had they known where it was, but the trunks had been hidden by crates of old coins. Afghanistan had been turned bloodily upside down, but the gold was exactly where it had been left in 1989. The beads of chalcedony, the ibex and the dragons, the gold crown—all were there, wrapped in cloth. Three inventories had been kept, it turned out, one with the culture ministry, one with the keeper of the treasure and one locked inside the trunks.

A story with a happy ending, then, and a rare symbol of hope for Afghanistan. Some bank officials now fret about a possible raid on the presidency vault. It would take some doing. The bullion door—made in West Germany to the highest standards—seems pretty secure. The grounds of the presidency are anyway now criss-crossed with laser tripwires and patrolled by heavily armed American mercenaries. Even so, by some accounts, the ten tin trunks of Kushan ostentation are being moved on, just to be safe.
 
Sander said:
and I certailny don't think that it was all worth it.

That's because you live under a free society. Sure, let other, non-fortunate people live under a forced rule/tyranny, while you can enjoy sitting here on your computor, protesting. It's only fair right?










Pssshhhfff....What if that was you man? What if you had to live under such regimes? You don't chose to live under them, you're born lucky Sander, yet you sit there, protesting the freedom so selflessy given to those in need. Enjoy it Sander, I will, and so will the Iraqis.
 
Paladin- Considering how many times you have made that statement, this is almost spam.

Substance, boy, substance!
 
Considering how many times Sander states he doesn't like it, yet you go after me. I just find it hard to understand why people who enjoy living in free societies don't think it's right for others to enjoy the same.
 
I agree, and I will even go to supporting the position that Sander doesn't always make a whole lot of sense. But still, Paladin, a good argument could pick out those fallacies.

Stop feeling so picked on, will ya. You want to feel pain, go up to the News forum!

This is easy!

The danger to good argument is when emotion wins over rationality, and people start taking this stuff personally.

Better to think of this as a bunch of guys shooting the bull over some beers.

And where is Sander these days?
 
I don't feel picked on, just unfairly singled out. I love argumets, except when it gets nasty, which it almost always tends to. But I see no logic in what Sander said about it not being worth it.
 
Here is one saving grace to Sander, generally. He's a moral idealist. This is both a strength and weakness of his argument.

Thus I can say, "Sander, get real!" And he can respond, "Bah! I am an idealist."

It's good to know what you are before you start.

PS- I am hoping you get pushed a bit to think carefully about your ideals. You are not so much being singled out, but calling serious criticism to some of your positions. The "If I were president...." bit was not a bright light.

But I think a lot of that is enthusiasm and at least you want to engage in a good argument.

Be careful though. We've been having a gentler period on NMA but I fear it may be drawing to a close, so it might be best to get on a flame retardent suit before you get toasted.
 
*sigh* Okay, Paladin, I can see why you may think that it's bullshit of me to think it wasn't worth it. But that doesn't give you the right to dictate my thoughts. I think what I think, you may say something about it, you may try to reason with me, but please, try not to repeat the same thing over and over again after I've already dismissed it or answered it. Again: I personally do not think it is worth it. This has nothing to do with me being safe and sound, it has to do with ideals. I'm an idealist, and I'm probably not going to change that. Why am I an idealist? Because I think that if everyone was an idealist this world would be a better place. A whole lot of a better place.

Now, I have to admit, though, that if the invasion of Iraq would've gone through the security council and half-assed arguments like WMDs without proof would've been dropped, then I might have been a bit more supportive. I could've even agreed with what was said. But none of those things have been done, and I hate that. Not to mention the fact that daily lives are still lost even though the official war ended months ago.

Now, that IS an interesting piece you got there, welsh, it's almost like a fantasy-tale.
Hmm, how beneficial to the restoration of the country would all that Bactrian Gold be?
 
If everyone was an idealist, Nazi Germany or the USSR or perhaps even the French (because of Napolean) would rule the world. Yeah, how great that would be! (sarcasm) But if that were the case, I would prefer the French.
 
Don't be so sarcastic, PS, remember a lot of people went to war in 1940 and in 2003 based on ideals. Whether you support the idea of spreading communism, or ending facism, these are ideals and values as well. Likewise, it was ideals that might be the cause behind these wars as well.

Idealism is a broad category based on the notion that the world can improve.

What would the world be without them? I admit to being a bit more accommodating to what I see as the darker nature of Politics, but I support Sander's ideal that politics shouldn't be so dark.

THe problem is not whether to be idealist, but what is the nature of the ideals one carries.

But a world without idealists is a sad thing. For idealism has at its core the concept that the world can be made better. That whatever problems we face to day, what ever ails us today, can be overcome and should be overcome.

Remove idealism and you have cynacism, fatalism and despair.

This is why the young are often idealistic- because the world is their inheritance to make as they should. It is also why the older folks are a bit more pessimistic. Because ideals are often short sighted, and the old adage "the road to hell is paved with good intentions." often rings true.

Yet, without idealism what would you have, hopelessness.
 
I should've restated that then. If everyone would be willing to bend over for tyrants or appease them, or even leave them alone then....
 
Well one often sees appeasement as one tool in the diplomatic toolbox.

For instance Chamberland is often seen as a whimp for appeasing to Hitler, but the truth is that the Brits weren't ready for a fight at Munich and probably couldn't have saved the Czechs anyway. Instead Chamberland hoped ot buy a little time.

Other strategies include deterrence, containment and compliance, but that's for another discussion.
 
welsh said:
For instance Chamberland is often seen as a whimp for appeasing to Hitler, but the truth is that the Brits weren't ready for a fight at Munich and probably couldn't have saved the Czechs anyway. Instead Chamberland hoped ot buy a little time.

That's absolutely correct, Welsh. While the British were in some ways cow-towing at the conference table, they really had no illusions about not eventually going to war w/Germany. The more visionary among them knew this when they saw the Treaty of Versailles, but by the mid-'30s the British military establishment was already planning to go to war w/Germany ca. '39, and was ensuring that the navy and air force were prepared for it, even if the army wasn't. But under the budgetary constraints, they couldn't have everything they wanted, so that had to choose and they chose to have a shield rather than a sword.

It's interesting to see how so many people simply look at incidents in isolation. As though the British and French had nothing else going on anywhere and could devote their complete energies to dealing w/the frictions caused by a resurgent Germany. (Nevermind that they were also largely responsible for it, but that's another topic.) How easily they overlook that both of these powers were reeling under economic woes that went much deeper than simply the Depression, but also stemmed from being over-extended in their world-wide empires. There were also domestic crisis, such as a lack of public faith in gov't in England thanks to some of the most horrendous stories told about Germany during WWI having been debunked as the purest fiction. (Notably, a story about Germany having a factory which churned out soap made from corpses, among others.)

But in the eyes of some the world is simple and one can always pursue whatever course of action one deems necessary regardless of other circumstances and all things exist independently of other things. Unfortunately, nothing could be further from the truth.

Edit: I completely forgot to bring up something very relevant about the partitioning of Czechoslovakia earlier, namely that it's not like the Fascists were the only ones sitting at the conference table w/their hands out. As can be seen in this map, both Poland and Hungary also took slices of the pie, so it should be clear that the Fascists were not alone in wanting to get at their neighbors' territory.

OTB
 
Hmm, I didn't know that both Pland and Hungary also got some land. Interesting...

Now, Paladin, you are forgetting one MAJOR thing. Ideals make the world go forward.
Without ideals we would now have a world with warring clans led by the strongest, the USA and many other countries would still be undiscovered, and at the most inhabited by their original inhabitants, if at all.
Ideals make this world go forward. Without ideals the USA would never have existed, all of these nice things you base your morals on would not have existed, and frankly, science would be nowhere as well.
Of course, ideals can be fucked up as well. Think Fascism, Nazism and Stalinism. But would you rather prefer a world without anything I just mentioned, or a world with those things and problems such as Fascism?

My ideals are varied, from freedom and socialism to peace with humans and animals. Follow your ideals, and make the world a little better. Now, how's that for a moralistic little speech? ;)
 
what's behind Libya's recent changes? Why Qaddafi changed his mind?


January 8, 2004
Libyan Stagnation a Big Factor in Qaddafi Surprise
By PATRICK E. TYLER

RIPOLI, Libya, Jan. 7 — Since Col. Muammar el-Qaddafi proclaimed last month that Libya would rid itself of outlawed weapons, praise has been pouring in from world capitals, the Libyan press reports every day.

Telegrams and phone calls from heads of state congratulate the "great leader" of Libya's revolution for his visionary decision, a potentially transforming step for a state that made itself a pariah in the 1980's, blazing a path of terrorism across Europe.

In 1986 its actions prompted a bombing by the Reagan administration. Two years later a Libyan attack brought down Pan Am Flight 103 over the village of Lockerbie, Scotland, killing 270 people, most of them Americans.

In the space of the last few months, something seems to have come over one of the world's best known boogeymen, an alteration that some American officials attribute to Western resolve in toppling Saddam Hussein, but that many experts say has been percolating in Colonel Qaddafi's mind for a decade.

These experts agree that the main factors underlying his decision are more likely to be his disastrous economic policies at home, the squandering of Libya's bountiful oil resources and a deepening isolation that threatens any hopes for the country's future.

The question that still seizes many Libyans and Western officials is: will it last?

In a private conversation last month with foreign diplomats and intelligence officers, Colonel Qaddafi confided that he would begin a campaign to persuade other nations, starting with Iran, to give up any ambition to acquire nuclear weapons. According to one person who was present, the colonel said such arms "do nothing to enhance security" and retard development.

An amazing shift in strategy, if he does pursue it, Western diplomats here say.

As for the timing of the colonel's proclamation, it may have been motivated primarily by a desire to use Libya's final payout of the $2.7 billion in Lockerbie compensation as leverage to win eased American sanctions, say Western officials who have been involved in the negotiations.

"He realized that Libya was on a path of international isolation and internal stagnation after 30 years of concentrated economic wrecking," said one European diplomat. "But there is no question that the Lockerbie settlement has set the time frame for his actions. He had to make the announcement on weapons if he was to test how George Bush would respond."

That time frame dictates that if the United States does not lift sanctions and remove Libya from the list of terrorist states by May, $6 million of the $10 million promised to victims' families will be returned to Libya. The Bush administration has refused to acknowledge any such time constraints, and President Bush reiterated this week that he was looking for "concrete steps" from Libya before improving relations.

But some experts say there may be a limit to the effectiveness of such demands. Western governments now need to "lock in" the Libyan commitment, said one Western diplomat, because "I would say that we have still not reached the point of no return for the colonel" in moving the country in a new direction.

Still, what he has promised to do is nothing short of astounding. And there are still powerful countercurrents. "It seems the Americans are not in a hurry, so we are not in a hurry," Prime Minister Shukri Ghanim said in an interview.

Echoing that view, Jiumaa Belkhair, a soft-spoken official in the Ministry of Information, said: "Myself, I am not in favor of running after the Americans. Libya doesn't need anything from America, and America needs oil."

British and American officials this month are scrambling to assemble a large team of weapons experts and intelligence officials to create an inventory of Libya's illicit weapons programs and map the steps to dismantle them. As an inducement for Colonel Qaddafi, Britain has signed an aviation agreement allowing British Airways to fly to Tripoli. And Libyan students may soon return to British universities.

Libyan and Western officials, including some who worked closely with Colonel Qaddafi in bringing about his declaration last month, say it is still impossible to fathom him.

"Qaddafi has always had a messianic complex," one Western expert said of the unpredictable army officer, who seized power in 1969. "He feels that God has been unfair to him by making him the leader of a small country of five million people, and he always imagined himself walking on a larger stage, like president of the United States."

Having failed to exert power as an Arab leader in a region that has largely shunned his erratic policies, Colonel Qaddafi has sought in the last decade to reinvent himself as an African leader, lavishing financial aid and oil supplies on a destitute continent, including some on pariahs like President Robert Mugabe of Zimbabwe.

But none of those attempts to find legitimacy have delivered what Libya needs most: an infusion of Western investment, especially in its oil industry, whose production has declined steadily from a peak of 3.3 million barrels a day in the late 1970's to about 1.4 million barrels a day now, industry experts say.

As a result, much of Libya looks like its poor neighbors. Its schools, hospitals and airports have deteriorated, and its national airline is dangerous to fly, Western pilots say. "They would like to have Boeing aircraft and rebuild their fleet," one Westerner said.

Libya is making a bid with Tunisia to host the World Cup of soccer in 2010, but without access to Western technology, its shabby infrastructure is likely to undermine any chance for success.

Though open political opposition is forbidden here, popular discontent with Colonel Qaddafi's rule simmers just below the surface. At Al Fateh University, an underground movement that calls itself Elle wages a graffiti campaign to protest the dilapidated conditions of cold and windowless classrooms and outdated equipment, one Libyan said.

The arrival of satellite television and the Internet since the late 1990's — much later than they appeared in most Arab countries — has given rise to what professors call an "electronic perestroika," an opening to the outside world that has shocked many Libyans into a realization of the backward conditions they live in.

Shops have opened in a private sector long persecuted for supporting "wage slaves," as the colonel has called them, and on the occasion of the annual People's Congress last June he appointed Mr. Ghanim, the first reformist prime minister, an American-trained economist.

Prominent ideologues at the congress quickly branded Mr. Ghanim a "traitor to the revolution" for promoting a privatization campaign. Colonel Qaddafi personally intervened to defend him.

Seven months later, Mr. Ghanim's claim to have privatized 360 state companies is more fiction than reality, foreign diplomats say, but he is trying to rebuild the institutions of public administration that Colonel Qaddafi spent years tearing down to prevent any competitor for power from emerging.

"This is a micromanaged country," said one diplomat. "If a light bulb burns out, no one dares to change it until he gets permission from the leader."

Some Westerners here say the war in Iraq did little to affect the pressures that were building on the government. "I think it has been a long process and Libya was well on its way in this process by the time the Iraq war took place, but at the same time, it didn't do any harm," a Western diplomat said.

Still, in an interview with the conservative French daily Le Figaro on the eve of the Iraq war, Colonel Qaddafi betrayed what some readers thought was a new realism about American power.

"When Bush has finished with Iraq, we'll quickly have a clear idea of where he's going," he said. "It won't take long to find out if Iran, Saudi Arabia or Libya will be targets as well," and "at that moment, things will be clear and the rest of us will be able to face them openly."

These days a significant source of influence on Colonel Qaddafi appears to be his family. One son, Saif el-Islam el-Qaddafi, is a student at the London School of Economics. Like Mr. Ghanim, he has brought home a realistic view of revolutionary economics and Libya's image abroad. Moreover, at 61, the colonel may be having serious thoughts of his own mortality, Western officials say.

"He is the chief of his tribe, and he wants most of all for his family to be at the helm of the ship," a European diplomat observed.

These currents were well known among Western governments when Colonel Qaddafi's intelligence chief, Musa Kussa, approached British officials last March seeking to trade Libya's secret weapons programs for a new era of relations.

For months of secret negotiations, little happened as the colonel weighed his options, officials said. In October, after American and British intelligence intercepted a ship carrying nuclear centrifuge technology reportedly provided by Pakistani nuclear scientists and their middlemen, Libya continued to hold back. (The Pakistan government has denied any involvement in the supply of nuclear technlogy.)

One party in the talks said, "Until December we were still in the dark about whether the whole thing was designed to keep us in play while he was trying to complete a nuclear weapon."

One family confidant said of the weapons: "The son has been ready for a long time to convince him to give them up. But the question has been, in giving them up, what could they get."
 
Sander said:
Hmm, I didn't know that both Pland and Hungary also got some land. Interesting...

Just to chime in - the part where Poland and Hungary took their slice of the pie was the Vienna Arbitration, which wasn't directly related to the Munich Pact but followed it very closely. Both Poland and Hungary had already wanted those lands after WW1 and after the Munich Pact, which gimped Czechoslovakia rather severely, they had a chance.

The Těšín region became the subject of a feud between Poland and Czechoslovakia which was finally settled in 1920 by dividing it more-or-less evenly between the two countries, and it's that way to this day. As for Hungary, they couldn't get over losing Slovakia and Ruthenia after WW1 (after pwning it for almost 1000 years). Both areas had considerable Polish and Hungarian (respectively) minorities, and in both cases a "military solution" was attempted shortly after WW1.

The fact that both Poland and Hungary had sprouted dictatorships in the '30s didn't exactly help things either, although I'm not 100% sure if they lasted all the way until Sep '39.

(By the way, just a small nitpick about that map - there was no "Czech territory ceded to Hungary", Czech is the western part that has no borders with Hungary. The areas given to Hungary were parts of Slovakia and Ruthenia aka Subcarpathian Russia (the eastmost bit). :) )
 
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