Almost everything we learn about Al-Qaida and Osama bin Laden these days is coming from anonymous U.S. officials.
Wednesday, for instance, U.S. officials told us via The Washington Post that Al-Qaida was on the verge of being totally wiped out. The comments echoed earlier ones from Defense Secretary Leon Panetta, the former C.I.A. director, who earlier said that only a couple dozen more Al-Qaida militants needed to be killed before the war was over.
Last week the officials were talking to the Wall Street Journal. They told the paper that Al-Qaida would likely be shifting the focus of its attacks to Western targets outside of the United States. They said this was because it had become too difficult for them to strike inside the United States.
The Wall Street Journal said the U.S. officials had come to this conclusion based on evidence gleaned from flash drives found in the compound where bin Laden was killed. Much of the information we are learning about bin Laden and Al-Qaida, in fact, is said (by U.S. officials) to be coming from those flash disks, as well as a computer.
It was from the computer, for instance, that U.S. officials learned that bin Laden liked porn. Everyone ran with that story. It was great story. Not only was it sure to drive traffic, combining two of the most searched items on the internet these days (porn and bin Laden), but it also tweaks the legacy of a man who claimed that a strict adherence to Islam is what guided him in his global campaign of terror.
It is reminiscent of the news, also released by U.S. officials, immediately following the raid that led to bin Laden’s death that, in a vain attempt to protect himself, bin Laden used his wife as a human shield. Not so heroic. That detail turned out to be false. As was news that bin Laden was armed.
The news that bin Laden liked porn also came from U.S. officials. They leaked it anonymously to Reuters and then everyone else reported the Reuters report (including GlobalPost). In fact, all the details about the raid, what transpired and what was found after, has come from U.S. officials.
The New York Times reported on May 6 that the details surrounding the raid and the discoveries that followed have been fluid in their accuracy. It partly blamed a ravenous media, itself included. But it also blamed a desire by the United States to spin facts in order to diminish bin Laden’s legacy.
Was the revelation that bin Laden liked porn part of that spin? What about everything else we are learning from U.S. officials? Is that spin too?
If it’s not spin, all the reports surely play into the hands of the U.S. government. Not only did the Wall Street Journal story infer that our defense measures are working but it justified our continued pursuit of Al-Qaida militants all over the world, both through the war in Afghanistan and the ramping up of drone attacks in Yemen and Somalia.
The Washington Post story, meanwhile, suggests that we have been successful in Pakistan, where drone strikes have been plentiful, but Al-Qaida remained strong in Yemen, where the U.S. plans to increase its use of unmanned drones.
Other things we learned recently about bin Laden: He was planning an attack on the 10-year anniversary of Sept. 11, he had a “direct” role in the planning of the July 7 bombings in London, a belief that runs counter to previous reports, and he was actively planning any number of other attacks as well — all according to “U.S. officials.”
ATHENS, Greece — They contemplated a divorce but ended up having another baby.
Greece and its euro zone partners saved their marriage by agreeing on a $170 billion bailout, but it hasn’t squashed talk of a messy breakup.
Some analysts see a Greek debt default as inevitable. Even Greece’s lenders fear the program is “accident prone,” as they said in a report for euro zone finance ministers before they approved Tuesday’s bailout.
It’s far from a universal opinion. Greek leaders lauded the agreement, naturally, saying it saved the country from a chaotic default. Others add that Greeks — despite the occasional violent protest against austerity measures — grudgingly accept that reforms are necessary.
Still, more of the same won’t cut it, said Costas Michalos, president of the Athens Chamber of Commerce and Industry.
“It’s a bad rescue package,” he said. “It’s not the right mixture of economic policies. If we follow the same economic policies of the past two years, there will be no other option than default, which I’m sure no one wants.”
The new loan package — Greece’s second massive bailout in as many years — aims to finally fix the country’s debt problems and restore its battered economy. It requires wage cuts and public sector layoffs, and strives to make the economy more competitive, which would attract investment.
A Eurogroup statement issued after the vote Tuesday in Brussels said the program is a “comprehensive blueprint” for debt sustainability by 2020 and economic growth. The success, it noted, “hinges critically on its thorough implementation by Greece,” no doubt a reminder of the country’s track record of missing reform targets.
“One can’t help but get the feeling that everyone involved is going through the motions, doing what they feel they have to do, rather than what they want to or what they believe in,” Sony Kapoor, managing director of Re-Define, a London-based think tank, said in a statement. “Confidence in the success of what has been agreed is rather low.”
Greece “will almost certainly” need yet another bailout, Kapoor added. “The troika have had to do some arithmetic gymnastics in order to make the numbers add up but their optimistic assumptions are unlikely to hold.”
Yet, for all their tough talk about cutting off the free-spending Greeks, the euro zone countries ultimately chose the safe route. The “comprehensive blueprint” helps Greece but also safeguards financial stability “in the euro area as a whole,” the Eurogroup statement said.
The new package hinges in part on private bondholders taking a nominal 53.5 percent loss, which will wipe out more than $140 billion from Greece’s overall debt. The IMF warned back in December that unless there’s near-universal voluntary participation by the bondholders, it would be hard to achieve debt sustainability by 2020.
Greece is expected to take extraordinary efforts to repay its creditors. It plans to amend its constitution to prioritize repayments. Also, the lower-valued bonds to be issued to private investors will be governed under English law. That provides stronger protections for investors.
Prime Minister Lucas Papademos has been criticized in some circles for conceding those guarantees, but University of Piraeus finance professor Dimitris Malliaropulos sees the other side.
“That, for me, is a guarantee that Greece will stay in the euro,” he said, adding that the commitment to the euro should improve investor sentiment.
Countries that default usually can devalue their currency, which makes exports cheaper, boosting growth. But with Greece ensuring euro repayments to lenders, there’s no incentive to default, Malliaropulos said.
“If you leave the euro, you should do it now — before the debt exchange,” he said.
The swap is scheduled to be complete in early March. If that and other conditions are met, Greece expects to receive bailout cash — avoiding default — before nearly $19 billion in bond repayments are due later in the month.
Petros Doukas, a former deputy finance minister, said he’s confident Greece will stay on course. He advocates for a larger debt write-off and a Marshall Plan-style spending package by the European Union and the United States — an idea he acknowledges is unlikely to occur.
The optimism, he said, stems from acceptance by politicians and average Greeks that there’s no turning back.
“Whoever thought that pensions and salaries could be reduced? It was unprecedented thinking,” Doukas said. “People complain about it, but they accept it.”
A potential curveball is an election planned in late April. Papademos is an unelected technocrat whose job is to shepherd Greece through the bond swap and bailout negotiations. He’s currently leading a coalition government that includes Greece’s two large parties, the conservative New Democracy and the Socialist PASOK.
Leaders of both parties have signaled their post-election commitment to carry out the reforms demanded by international lenders. Polls show New Democracy leading, but likely in another coalition government.
“The politics are a major risk for the Greek economy,” Malliaropulos said. He noted that Greece has had only a few coalition governments and “they didn’t go very well.”
Employees of the Byzantine and Christianity museum hold a cardboard replica of ancient ruins which reads: ''Monument for sale'' during a peaceful protest outside the Greek Parliament in Athens, Sunday, Feb. 19, 2012 (Credit: AP Photo/Thanassis Stavrakis)
ROME — The European Union has finally agreed on its latest 130 billion euro bailout plan that should save Greece from going bust next month.
Now all it has to do is help the country pull out of a five-year recession, get the one-in-five unemployed Greeks back to work and make sure that Portugal, Ireland, Spain and Italy don’t end up sharing a similar fate.
Tuesday’s agreement among euro zone finance ministers came after another tense bout of all-night negotiations at the end of months of bickering between Brussels, Berlin and Athens on whether the Greek government could be trusted to make good on austerity pledges given in return for the rescue funding.
“In the past two years and again tonight, I’ve learnt that marathon is indeed a Greek word,” said the EU’s Economic Affairs Commissioner Olli Rehn. “But in the end we came to an agreement.”
The deal is certainly a major achievement in the battle to get both Greece and the whole of the euro zone out of their economic mess. But nobody has any illusions that the euro zone is anywhere near the finishing line of its long-distance race to get out of the economic hole.
The nuts and bolts of the deal mean that the EU and International Monetary Fund will hand over 130 billion euro in loans so Greece can meet debt repayments due in March.
Greece’s private creditors have been squeezed into agreeing to take a loss of 53.5 percent on their Greek bonds — which is expected to translate to debt relief of a further 100 billion euros. Any profits that the European Central Bank or other EU nations make from Greek bonds will be channelled back to Athens.
“We have reached a far-reaching agreement … to secure Greece’s future in the euro area,” said Jean-Claude Juncker, Luxembourg’s prime minister who chaired the 14-hour overnight talks in Brussels.
In return, Greece has agreed to another round of wage, pension and job cuts which are designed to see the country’s debt drop from the current level of 160 percent of economic output to 120.5 percent by 2020.
Athens will also agree to an unprecedented level of oversight of its economy, including permanent EU monitors in Athens and the creation of a special account that will make sure the international funds are used for debt repayments — until the country changes its constitution to make repayment a priority.
By heading off the immediate threat of a Greek default, the EU has provided a short-term solution to the most pressing threat to the euro zone.
However, Tuesday’s agreement does little to address the underlying problem of Greece’s shrinking economy and lack of competitiveness.
Some estimates see another 10 years of recession on top of the five Greece has already suffered as it struggles to rein in its debt. An internal EU report leaked to journalists in Brussels on Monday painted a gloomy picture that warned more bailouts may be needed unless government reforms start to produce growth.
It’s by no means clear whether the Greek people will be ready to accept the prospect of seemingly endless austerity. The anger expressed in the regular riots on the streets of Athens will be tested in elections in April, where parties on the far left and right who oppose the austerity-for-bailout deals are expected to do well.
Meanwhile, Spain, Italy and, in particular, Portugal will be hoping the respite agreed for Greece will boost confidence in the wider euro zone. They will also be fearing that with Greece off the hook for a while, sceptical markets will be looking for a new outlet for their default fears.
GlobalPost correspondent James Foley spent 44 days in captivity inside Moammar Gadhafi's Libya. This first chapter of his story originally appeared on GlobalPost. For the full series, click here.
There is a single main highway along which lies every major city between the rebel stronghold of Benghazi in the east and the capital Tripoli in the west. It snakes along the coast and passes through Ajdabiya, Brega, Sirte and Misrata, cities made world famous by months of back and forth, and deadly, conflict.
The four of us were riding in the back of a blazing red minibus at the beginning of April, approaching the strategic oil town of Brega, where the worst fighting of the conflict had been taking place. Our driver was a teenage boy, like his friend in the passenger’s seat. The so-called front in this war was always changing. But we had already passed the last rebel checkpoint and we knew whatever front existed was beginning to reveal itself.
Our goal was to learn, and then report, who was in control of Brega.
We were getting nervous. We knew the boys driving were scouting the road ahead, and maybe on their own initiative. Anton, the most experienced journalist in the group, mumbled something about it being risky. We could feel our guts begin to tighten. Manu and I looked at each other. But said nothing.
Two armed trucks raced toward us from behind, filling up our back window before soaring past. This was how the rebel convoys seemed to form, like schools of fish that hunted together, but have no clear leader or command structure.
Over a small hill we saw some men, boys really, standing around a sedan. We leaped out to do some interviews. Clare asked how far away Gadhafi’s forces were. The boy said 300 meters. 300 meters? I looked at Clare. It seemed impossible. But as a precaution, we hustled off to the side of the road. A static mortar or a rocket position could have easily dialed in on us from that distance. The small convoy rolled ahead, leaving us behind in what we thought was relative safety.
We watched the rebels push forward. They weren’t 200 meters away, at the rise of the next hill, when they sped back around. We watched for a second as they beared back down on us, followed by a barrage of machine gun fire. The loudest I had ever heard. Our small group of journalists — Anton, Clare, my fellow American, and Manu, a Spanish photographer — took off running.
“We need to get to the vehicles,” Anton shouted. But the rebel trucks were retreating too fast and the ones in pursuit were firing wildly. There were two Gadhafi military pickups — tan with large machine guns mounted on the back. The trucks were overflowing with armed men.
With all the bullets flying, we pressed ourselves as close to the ground as possible. The rebels faded into the distance and the Gadhafi trucks slowed to a stop. The shooting continued. The roar of bullets overhead sounded like machines eating up metal. AK-47 rounds ripped past us from less than 50 meters.
Libya: Tripoli scenes from the uprising:
I crawled back toward Clare and Manu, who were under several small trees. The shooting intensified. We tried to speak, to yell for each other. But the bullets tearing overhead deafened everything. In a corner of my mind I hoped that we were in a cross fire, that behind us the rebels were shooting back. I crawled forward toward a larger sand dune with my camera rolling. Anton crouched in front of me. The bullets streamed directly over my helmet and shoulders. This was no crossfire. They were shooting at us, and they were shooting to kill.
“Help, help,” I heard Anton cry. His voice was weak. My mind tried to convince me of something I knew was not true. Maybe he had just fallen and twisted something. Another barrage of bullets passed over me. “Anton, are you OK?” I shouted between bursts of fire.
“No,” he said, in a much weaker voice.
****
I’ve heard journalists say that Libya was the perfect war. A reporter could get to the front line, close enough to hear the shells coming in, and back to a comfortable hotel in Benghazi, with a solid Internet connection, by evening.
But in reality, this war was anything but perfect — something I’d soon come to learn. It was a war led by confusion, abductions and an oppressive sense of the unknown. This latest spasm of the Arab Spring had none of the idealism of Tunis or Cairo. For me, it began with a rifle butt to he head, which bled into weeks of uncertainty, crushing captivity and ended, however improbably, in a four-star hotel in the besieged Libyan capital.
Along the way, between blindfolds and quiet conversations with fellow captives deep inside the country’s brutal prison system, I witnessed the last gasps of the Gadhafi regime — a corrupt and corrupted system that for more than 40 years ruled this tribal, oil-rich land.
I had done several tours as an embedded reporter with U.S. troops in Iraq and Afghanistan. So, for me, the frontlines felt natural. And I believed it was my job. But the freedom with which you could maneuver was deceptive. There was no highly-trained U.S. platoon to escort you. And the rebels were said to be some of the worst trained soldiers in the world. Most had never held a gun before the end of February, when they stormed Benghazi’s “katiba” and took them by force.
I tried to hold farther back after a few close calls — a near miss by a Girad rocket, for instance, or a tank shell ripping over the heads of Manu and I outside Ajadibya. Our ears popped. But the front kept calling.
As is common among freelancers, Clare Gillis, a 34-year-old from Connecticut, Manu Brabo, a 29-year-old from Gijon, Spain, and myself had been sharing rides and interviews together for several weeks. Anton Hammerl, a South African photographer who covered much of Africa — from the townships during Apartheid to child soldiers in the Congo — came late to our little group.
With all the rebel offensives and retreats along the coastal highway, we felt we had to get to the front every few days or risk completely losing track of the story. So on April 5, we headed out.
Our plan was to try to get a sense of who was really controlling Brega, a strategic oil town that had been the scene of some of the most deadly fighting since the uprising began several months earlier. A rebel general told us that if the rebels took Brega, they would hold it without advancing right away, thus learning from earlier mistakes where they stretched themselves too thin and were forced into whole scale retreats.
But Brega was dangerous. Manu and I had been caught in heavy shelling outside the town days before. I had seen two shells bounce off the ground a hundred meters away. A rebel was killed by shrapnel to the head in the truck Manu and I had leaped into for escape. We went with them to the hospital, hugged the bawling comrades afterwards and shot some eerie photos of them washing blood off their grenades.
Still, Brega was where the front was, so we woke up early to beat the crush of reporters. The four of us went in a Mercedes van piloted by a teen. We stopped at the only manned checkpoint some 20 kilometers outside town, where a crowd of the usual disheveled men, many of them teens, milled about waiting for the real fighters to assemble. We got out into the early sunshine and told our driver he could leave us there. It was just after 10 a.m.
We waited. Usually, with shouts of “Allah Akbar,” a convoy would push ahead, and we’d jump into one of the rebel vehicles heading to the front.
The red minibus started moving and we hustled on. It drove ahead with us as its only passengers, the young driver and his friend in front looked nervously from side to side. We stopped after a kilometer to inspect two smoldering pickup trucks, blackened crisps in the road. It appeared to have been a rebel ambush.
“Hit by a Sam 7,” Anton said pointing out the expended launcher and wire guidance system leading to the cindered vehicles. I took note of his wealth of knowledge. He’d been forced to join the South African infantry as a young man and hadn’t relished it.
****
The firing continued all around us. The men had gotten out of their vehicles and were now approaching. “Anton!” I shouted again. He was silent. The terrifying reality grabbed hold of me. The soldiers firing probably didn’t know that we were reporters. Rebels didn’t dress in regular uniforms and many were often not even armed. I had to surrender or we’d all be gunned down.
I leaped up from where my head had been buried in the sand to face the group of wild men shooting uncontrollably — it seemed our only hope. I held up my hands and yelled, “Sahafa! Sahafa!” It was one of the few Arabic words I knew. It means “journalist.” I walked slowly toward them.
There were three or four skinny, Arab-looking soldiers carrying AK-47s and a larger, darker one to the right. My eyes drifted toward Anton as I stumbled past the dune ahead of me. He was lying face down in the sand, his body askew, cameras still strapped around his shoulders, his legs splayed out.
As soon as I reached the soldiers, the dark one slammed me across the chin with the butt end of his AK-47. I dropped my camera. He smashed his rifle down on my head. My helmet and Oakley sunglasses were thrown off and he punched me in the eye. Another one crushed my head several more times with an AK-47. All my instincts for self-preservation gathered within me. I went completely limp and complacent. The adrenaline was coursing so heavily through my body. I felt no pain.
I was thrown into the back of one of the pickup trucks. An Army boot pushed my face onto the floor. I glanced back and saw Manu and Clare being pulled off the ground.
A crazed looking soldier looked down and jeered at me in English, “You go on patrol! You go on patrol!” as if he knew exactly what we’d been trying to do. A cell phone was pushed close to my face. A picture was snapped. “Gadhafi Meia Meia,” a younger one said, thumping his chest, “Gadhafi 100 percent.” These words terrified me. After weeks of being with rebels who said things like, “Fuck Gadhafi,” with regular consistency, we had now found ourselves with the other side, the ones who had pledged their dying allegiance to the country’s dictatorial leader of more than four decades.
Clare and Manu were also forced down into the bed of the truck. Manu was face down and Clare, pushed against his side, was facing me. I looked at her for the first time. She had a purpled eye. She saw blood running from my scalp.
“Jim, are you OK?” she said, pleadingly. I nodded, and took stock of the blood pooling in the back of the truck. With a boot again on my face, my hands were bound behind me with a plastic cord. We sped away from the scene.
WARSAW, Poland — I woke up this morning to the news that Anthony Shadid has died — apparently of an asthma attack — while on assignment in Syria. Whether you knew his byline or not, the loss is incalculable.
I can speak in absolutes about the quality of his work. No one reported the Middle East with greater clarity and nuance than Shadid. No one brought the humanity of the people of the region, people who live in a perpetual state of stress even when they are living in the comparative comfort of Beirut and Tel Aviv, to the wider world with a surer touch than Anthony.
He could have coasted on his one great advantage — fluency in Arabic — to beat other reporters to the story. He did not. He used it as a foundation to serve readers — and help colleagues. When I left Iraq after the overthrow of Saddam, a sizeable part of my heart was left behind with new friends who were struggling to make the country a better place. Amid the constant shifts in the chaotic post-war era, Anthony’s dispatches were the ones I relied on to give me the complete picture of what was happening around the country.
American reporters are trained to be objective. It is an ideal to aspire to, more than an achievable goal. We are human beings and those of us who cover conflicts have our emotions challenged every day. The desire to bear witness and to make readers and listeners feel what we feel is overwhelming. Sometimes this gets in the way of objectivity. Anthony, who saw more terrible things than most, managed to stay closer to that ideal than any one. That’s what makes his reporting the best and why in years to come, it will truly be seen as the first draft of history.
We published books on Iraq at the same time and shared a panel at the Brattle Theatre in Cambridge, Mass. on Iraq. I had long since decided that objectivity was getting in the way of my reporting. It was important to let my readers know that I was angry and that my friend had died because of the criminally poor planning of the bigwigs in Washington. That emotion suffused my book. Anthony’s book was scrupulously written, you could never guess what he felt about the war.
My memory is that during the course of the conversation I pressed him about keeping his feelings about the war out of the book. He came back at me with full vigor, eloquently defending the importance of objectivity. He was a big-hearted, supremely talented man — and disciplined about the work. The panel was recorded by C-Span and you can watch Anthony and get some sense of who he was and what we have lost here.
As a tit-for-tat war rages in the shadows between Iran and Israel and some are seeing signs of serious duress in Tehran.
Israel’s Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and some right-leaning voices in the United States, including most of the GOP’s presidential contenders, continue to pound the war drums over Iran’s nuclear program.
But over the past several months, the image of the regime as a snake coiled to strike has lost some of its appeal to Iran observers. The erratic and often amateurish mix of bungled attacks and histrionic threats has prompted a reassessment of Iran and its putative allies.
Its thwarted attempts to assassinate Israeli and Saudi diplomats, stubborn defense of — and covert aid to — the bloodthirsty Syrian regime and its inept economic policy moves and apparently empty bluster about closing the Strait of Hormuz all have contributed to the belief that Iran may not be the fearsome adversary its president, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, would have us believe.
“Iran’s recent threats to close the Strait of Hormuz are almost certainly just that — empty threats,” wrote Aref Assaf, an Arab-American scholar on Middle Eastern affairs. “But it is the sort of ill-conceived bluster that could have unintended consequences.”
With economic sanctions finally biting hard, Iran’s recent behavior has exacerbated regional trends that, since the Arab Spring began last year, have increasingly isolated the Islamic Republic.
Only recently, it was an article of faith among most Western experts that Iran’s influence and power would inevitably rise in this decade, particularly after the U.S. installed an Iran-friendly Shiite government in Baghdad.
But in the past six months, a combination of greatly improved Western economic sanctions, covert action by Israel and other intelligence agencies aimed at Iran’s nuclear establishment and the continuing instability of the Arab Spring has severely tested the regime’s ability to hold together the domestic constituencies that keep it in power.
There was first the bold challenge to the regime laid down by the country’s Western-oriented urban elites after President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad’s brazenly stolen reelection in 2009, then the recent collapse of the Iranian currency.
The country’s economic crisis has sustained the smoldering resentment of Iran’s elites, whose 2009 protest was crushed by the regime’s security apparatus and its fanatical militia. A barely concealed power struggle between Ahmadinejad and Iran’s Supreme Leader, the Ayatollah Khamenei, has raged ever since.
Tehran has also proved unable to get out ahead of popular uprisings in the Arab world — even in Shiite-majority Bahrain, where Saudi allegations of Iranian agitation are mostly imaginary.
Just last week, Hamas, the Palestinian political movement regarded as a terrorist group by the U.S. and EU, agreed to a power-sharing agreement with its rivals in the Palestinian Authority, a move that could end Shiite Iran’s role in arming and funding Sunni Hamas — as well as its bid for influence there.
The deal could prove illusory, as several previous ones have, but the reconciliation brokered by Qatar’s relatively liberal Gulf monarchy will certainly have included demands from the PA that Iranian influence be kept at bay.
This Iranian losing streak — coming with the region in flux and both American and Al Qaeda’s influence arguably also in decline — has surprised Western intelligence analysts who have long regarded Iran and its Lebanese protégé, Hezbollah, as possessing formidable disruptive capabilities.
Of course, this can change quickly should Iran’s Revolutionary Guard, the terrorist syndicate that protects the regime’s power base, decide to mount a major terrorist attack somewhere.
Hezbollah, which Iran supplies with arms and funding, also has a history of violent attacks — ranging from its role in the destruction of the U.S. and French military barracks in Lebanon in the early 1980s, to a murderous attack on an Buenos Aires Jewish organization in 1994 that killed 84 people, to the 2006 “missile war” with Israel.
The decision to unleash a wave of suicide bombers targeting Israeli diplomats is real enough. But even here, it has only added further to evidence of disarray in Tehran.
Thai police believe an abortive attempt to bomb Israel’s embassy there Tuesday (the bomber blew his legs off instead) can be traced to an Iranian cell in the country. They held two Iranians, including the luckless, legless bomber, Wednesday.
Some in the Israeli military and intelligence agencies have come to see more desperation than dastardly competence in Tehran’s recent behavior.
Even some notable hawks in the U.S. security establishment have retracted their talons. Patrick Clawson, director of the Washington Institute for Near East Studies, published a paper last week arguing that the latest round of sanctions implemented by the EU and United States have had significant effects on Iran.
Alone, Clawson writes, they probably are not enough to force Iran to stop enriching uranium. But he goes on to say that a military strike will not work — indeed, that it would likely be deeply counterproductive in the long run.
Rather, he says, there are better ways to bring Iran to heel. Ever-tighter sanctions could exacerbate the effects of broader regional changes, including the rising appeal in the region of Turkey’s secular democracy as a model, the discrediting of Iran’s ally Bashar al-Assad in Syria and impatience on the part of Russia and China with Iranian behavior.
“The Iranian nuclear impasse is not an easy problem to solve. But, in fact, the Obama administration is more correct than the pessimists when it sees room for action in 2012 on all these fronts. The Iranian nuclear problem is very unlikely to be resolved any time soon, but progress can be made,” he said.
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