The September 11th attacks on the United States should have taught us some very basic lessons in counter-terrorism. Seven years, two wars and billions of dollars later we are still struggling to do the old fashioned intelligence and police work to keep the public safe. As the Indians and the world community try to determine who is responsible for these horrible attacks in Mumbai, why they committed these atrocities, and how to respond, one of the more important lessons to take away from all this: Know your enemy before reacting. Anne Applebaum explains:
In the coming days, more will surely be learned about the gunmen, some of whom have been captured by the Indian police. Their weapons will be traced, their motives will become clearer, their methods better understood. Their leaders will acquire names and personalities. Still, it is worth underlining, emphasizing, and remembering this initial moment of total ignorance: If nothing else, it's a reminder of some things we learned on Sept. 11, 2001.Her entire piece can be read here in Slate.
At that time, readers will recall, al-Qaida was widely described as something new: Unlike terrorist groups of the past, many noted that it operated not as a single, secretive organization but more like a global franchise. Groups and individuals with various agendas could come to al-Qaida for weapons and training. Afterward, they could, in effect, set up their own local branches, whose goals and methods might reflect the original, Saudi-inspired, al-Qaida ideology—or might not. Some predicted that al-Qaida would even inspire copycat movements, much as McDonald's inspired Burger King. Groups with no connection to Osama Bin Laden—and no interest in being connected to Osama Bin Laden—might imitate some of his methods and tactics. By definition, the members of such groups would be civilians, sometimes living ordinary lives. They would not be combatants, in the ordinary sense of the word. They would not wear uniforms, follow rules, or organize themselves into anything resembling a traditional army. And they could not, therefore, be fought using traditional military methods alone.
Too often, over the last seven years, it has been easy to forget this initial analysis. After all, most of our major military efforts since 2001 have initially involved rather more concrete enemies, whom we have fought in specific places, using traditional means. The initial assault on Afghanistan was in fact a proxy war, not a postmodern, post-globalization game of tricks and mirrors. The same was true in Iraq: We overthrew a dictator, toppled his statues, and set up an occupation regime.
Only later, in both places, did we find ourselves contending with groups invariably described as "shadowy," with enemies who melted in and out of the civilian population, with terrorist cells that might be connected to al-Qaida, to Pakistan, to Iran—or might not. It took some time before we understood that our opponents in Iraq were not merely disgruntled Baathists but encompassed a range of both Sunni and Shiite groups with different agendas. Only now, for that matter, do we fully understand the degree to which the very word Taliban is misleading: Though the term implies a definite group with clear goals, American commanders in Afghanistan now understand very well that what they call Taliban is also an amalgamation of insurgents, some of whom fight for tribal interests, others for money, and only some for a clear-cut ideological cause.
Perhaps the Mumbai gunmen will, like some of the Afghan Taliban, also turn out to be members of a homegrown, locally based, ad hoc organization, with its own eccentric goals and training methods. Or perhaps they really will turn out to belong to a definite group with a clear ideology, which would of course be easier all around. Surely the point, though, is that we should be well-prepared to deal with either—and wary of mistaking one for the other.