Diminishing Warfare... Partnering and Mobilization

Last week, I talked about championing human rights as a part of a "diminishing warfare" strategy for the United States - engaging the base of unjust conditions that breed terror. The next two steps of this strategy involve partnerships and mobilization of the American public. By this, I propose that the United States should be:

Partnering with international, regional, and local governments as well as governmental, non-governmental (NGOs) and private volunteer organizations (PVOs). The job of diminishing underlying conditions is immense and can only be tackled by alliances, coalitions, and cooperation with all available like-minded governments and organizations, as well as the joint and interagency cooperation and integration of US government entities. We must improve our communication with these groups, find where our objectives overlap, and coordinate our efforts for maximum impact in a given location. In military operations, the Civil-Military Operations Centeris the vital hub of this partnership and must be integrated into theater planning and operations.

Mobilizing the American People. Our largest asset in warfare has always been the American populace and private industrial base. The United States is peculiar among industrialized nations in the preponderance of wealth owned by private citizens and organizations versus the government, as well as the relatively small size of the government workforce in proportion to the population. During previous global wars, the United States mobilized its population to great effect, rallying them to action to support the war effort with their money (as with War Bonds), volunteerism (such as in the USO and American Red Cross), and self-sacrifice (voluntary and involuntary rationing, “victory gardens,” tire and metal drives, etc.). The American people remain willing to participate – in 2004, charitable contributions before the incredible response to the deadly Tsunamis in December topped $200 billion, and over half of US adults volunteered, providing an estimated 20 billion charitable work hours. However, the citizenry needs clear direction, rallying, and leadership to focus and intensify its efforts. We must mobilize these unequalled resources of people, institutions, and finances to have maximum impact in the war on terror.

Next... the final leg of the strategy of "diminishing warfare": coordinated information operations. Sounds sinister? I hope not...

So, what can we do?

A few days ago, I pasted an excerpt about why we should care about the conditions in places such as subsaharan Africa. The following is more from the same essay, talking about what we can do about them, engaging in what I call "Diminishing Warfare":

The United States must actively diminish these formidable underlying conditions with the same fervor and intensity with which we have pursued the missions of destroying, denying, and defending. This requires the integration of all four instruments of national power – diplomatic, informational, military, and economic (DIME) – by:

- Championing Aspirations for Human Dignity

- Partnering with international, regional, and local governments as well as governmental, non-governmental (NGOs) and private volunteer organizations (PVOs)

- Mobilizing the American People, and

- Conducting Coordinated and Coherent Information Operations

For this week, let's look at the first of these four steps:

1. Championing Aspirations for Human Dignity. We must implement the National Security Strategy (NSS) directive to champion aspirations for human dignity, acting with our public and diplomatic voices, foreign aid, and promotion of democracy, democratic institutions, and freedom of religion and conscience. By acting in such areas in an honest, straightforward, and consistent manner, we will spread hope, which is perhaps the most effective deterrent to terrorism. This will require pursuing the methods forwarded in the NSS in an even manner:

a. Speaking out honestly about violations of human dignity and using our influence in international forums to champion freedom means that we must be willing to criticize our allies, friends, adversaries, and even ourselves, in a consistent manner that shows a true resolve to uphold human dignity for all people and condemn attacks against it from all sources.

b. Judicious use of foreign aid to promote freedom and encourage forward-moving nations must likewise be consistent, and must be linked to our public voice. We cannot continue to allow our foreign aid programs to be incongruous with our diplomatic voice.

c. The development of democratic institutions, including the vital infrastructure that supports them, must gain even higher priority in our efforts. We must increase and augment such programs as the President’s Millennium Challenge Corporation, which work to improve public works, economic development, and public health initiatives as well as education, training, and mentoring in public service, law enforcement, entrepreneurship, and other vital fields.

Next... using partnerships to fight injustice.

Why should we care about starving kids in Africa?

Note: The following is a short excerpt from an essay I wrote for Joint Forces Staff College, and covers some of the selfish reasons we should care about what happens in Africa and elsewhere.

Whereas the critical center of gravity for many state-based systems is leadership, modern globally networked terrorist organizations depend on active and passive support from the general population of one or more countries or regions. This support itself hinges on the impression that terrorism is a legitimate avenue to address these underlying conditions. This idea is the true “critical” center of gravity – the only COG that, if eliminated or significantly diminished, will cause the organizations to crumble.

Using Al Quaeda as an example, traditional strategic thought would have us centralize our focus upon its leadership. Surely, eliminating Osama Bin Laden would have a significant impact on Al Quaeda; however, a new leader likely would rise in his place. We have captured or killed a noteworthy number of operatives, disrupted their lines of communication, frozen their assets and supplies, and destroyed many of their bases of operation; yet, despite considerable effect on Al Quaeda’s effectiveness, it continues to operate. Even if we are able to destroy the organization completely, we can expect that as long as these underlying conditions and the idea that terrorism can address them exist, new terrorist organizations will appear as surely as weeds sprout in fresh soil.

The worldwide scope and implications of these underlying conditions cannot be ignored. In our country, we debate the increased risk of gang activity and violence in a society endangered by a lack of effective parental role models, poverty, homelessness, and sexual predation. These are significant concerns, but they pale in comparison to other parts of the world. On the continent of Africa, for instance, up to 20 million children will be orphaned by the AIDS pandemic by 2010, more than 90% of people in five nations live on less than the equivalent of $2 per day, over 4.5 million refugees are not only without homes, but without countries, and tens of thousands of children are trapped in prostitution (28,000 to 30,000 in South Africa alone). This is the fertile ground in which terrorist ideology takes root.

Coming soon: So, what can we do?

An Interview with Grandfather

Jeff Kleinman suggested a good technique to get into a fictional character's head: interview him or her about a terribly mundane subject, and then keep asking questions. Here's my first interview with Grandfather.

So, Grandfather, paper or plastic?

Paper, for sure. The texture, the smell of rough brown paper… why would you trade that for white and crinkly? Though the latter is better for picking up dog poop.

You seem to be drawn to the sense of smell - I hear that in your stories and your discussion with the Grandchildren. Is smell the most important sense?

Is that what you think?

I’m interviewing you.

OK, well, in my opinion, it’s not the most important sense because there is no “most important” sense. They are all so vital to how we encounter the world. That said, I find that smell often awakes my memories much more vividly than sight, touch, hearing, or even taste.

Why do you think that is so?

Well, that is the most interesting question you’ve asked so far. We live in a world where we trust what our eyes see so much, that we accept what we see without thinking, even though most anything can be (and often is) reproduced so that it is more “real” than reality itself. The same rings true for sound. Don’t believe me? Go watch a modern movie, and hear the sights and sounds of battle digitally produced (not reproduced) so realistically that you can almost believe you are there.

Almost?

Almost. Because without the other senses, you can’t truly experience the battle. You can’t feel the heat of the flames, the grit of the breastplate’s straps, or the weight of your shield, helmet, and sword. And you can’t smell the smoke, the sweat, the blood, or (forgive my bluntness), the awful smell of voided bowels.

So why smell and not touch?

I really don’t know, though I know that surprises you.

What do you mean?

You’ve imagined me as omniscient. I’m not.

Grandfather and Socrates

As I work on Grandfather's Stories, I'm spending more time on the thoughts of Socrates and the propriety and impropriety of writing. Somewhat ironic, since I'm writing things down about the benefits of not writing things down.

How do I know these stories are true? Oh, that is simple: they were never spoiled by the letters made by pen and ink, which steals the voice of the storyteller and the memory of the listener. As one Grandfather told his Grandchildren, the impropriety of writing is that it creates forgetfulness in our souls, atrophies our memories, and causes us to trust external written characters instead of our own recollections. No, my Grandchildren, since these are memories and not books, I know they are true.

Work in Progress 1st Chapter, Grandfather's Stories

Below is the first chapter of a work in progress, currently titled Grandfather's Stories.

Yes, dear ones, I was once even smaller than you. And when I was that small, I loved to visit my Grandfather also. What was his house like? Well, I don’t remember the color of the roof, or that of the door, or what the windows were like, or even the number of rooms, but I can tell you all about it just the same.

It was warm, and not just because he had a fireplace just like this one, always glowing and crackling with hardwood. It was warm because in the evenings after he came in from the fields and we had finished the last of Grandmother’s blackberry buckle, Grandfather would sit in the chair and your Great Aunt and I would climb into his lap, and spend our evening there with his great arms wrapped around us, just like this. We would root into the nooks of his elbows and inhale deeply, savoring the musk of his warm flannel work shirt, the bouquet of berries, the aroma steaming from his mug of mint tea, and another fragrance that brought memories of well-worn saddles and ancient scrolls.

You see, just like this room, Grandfather’s house was filled with the scent of these old leather, cloth, and paper books. Here, both of you choose one. Now flip the pages near your face. Go ahead… breathe in the years.

Grandfather read books all the time, and often he read his favorites to us, but he closed them when he told us stories. Grandfather said that reading and storytelling were two different arts, and that sometimes when you read, you lost the words in the midst of all the letters and the stories between the words.

He also told us about the importance of hickory smoke. Grandfather said an oak fire was stately, and cherry was perfect to fill the house with perfume after a morning of cooking, but for storytelling, one must use hickory. It not only soothed the body, but also opened the mind, the heart, and the soul.

And so, the two of us would curl up in his lap, wrapped in his arms like a blanket, and Grandfather would lean back and close his eyes, and as we watched yellow gazelles, red valkyries, and orange tigers chase each other over and through and around the log, he would tell us stories.

What stories, you ask? Oh, wonderful stories about distant worlds, and others right next door. Mythical beasts, heroes, knights and damsels, animals, people famous and obscure, family members, planets, and trees. He once told about a river, a story with nothing living in it except the water’s own movement, enchanting us for hours with the twisting storyline. Another time I was so caught up in his tale of a mountain climber that I was afraid to look down from his lap, knowing that if I did, I would be looking not at the hearth but into a bottomless gorge. When he stopped from weaving his yarns into a tapestry, perhaps pausing to take a sip of tea, we would stare at his lips, wishing them to move again. Inevitably, when the story was finished, only the glow of embers remained in the fireplace to light our path to our bedroom.

So, you’d like to hear one of these stories? Perhaps I could tell one, if Grandmother wouldn’t mind filling my mug. My old throat is so dry.

So this is what "Platform" starts with?

After the superb Agent-Author conference put together by Backspace, I'm told that as I shop for an agent, I should work on building "platform."

Now, what exactly platform "is" is a subject of consternation and a bit of muddy confusion, but I think one of the best descriptions of the concept was that it was a combination of the author's expertise on his or her subject and the "megaphone" that allows the author to communicate and mobilize his or her audience.

So, on the urging and advice of many of the fine agents and writers I met, here starts the blog... a step on the way towards building a larger platform.

I hope you enjoy joining me on this journey.

Pat