I served in the CIA for
28 years and I can tell you:
America's screw-ups come from bad leaders, not lousy spies.
"Presidents Make Decisions Based on Intelligence."
Not the big ones. From George W. Bush trumpeting WMD reports about Iraq to this year's
Republican presidential candidates vowing to set policy in Afghanistan based on
the dictates of the intelligence community, Americans often get the sense that
their leaders' hands are guided abroad by their all-knowing spying apparatus.
After all, the United States spends about $80 billion on intelligence each
year, which provides a flood of important guidance every week on matters
ranging from hunting terrorists to countering China's growing military
capabilities. This analysis informs policymakers' day-to-day decision-making
and sometimes gets them to look more closely at problems, such as the rising
threat from al Qaeda in the late 1990s, than they otherwise would.
On major foreign-policy decisions, however, whether going to
war or broadly rethinking U.S. strategy in the Arab world (as President Barack
Obama is likely doing now), intelligence is not the decisive factor. The
influences that really matter are the ones that leaders bring with them into
office: their own strategic sense, the lessons they have drawn from history or
personal experience, the imperatives of domestic politics, and their own
neuroses. A memo or briefing emanating from some unfamiliar corner of the
bureaucracy hardly stands a chance.
Besides, one should never underestimate the influence of
conventional wisdom. President Lyndon B. Johnson and his inner circle received
the intelligence community's gloomy assessments of South Vietnam's ability to
stand on its own feet, as well as comparably pessimistic reports from U.S. military leaders on the likely cost and time
commitment of a U.S. military effort there. But they lost out to the domino
theory -- the idea that if South Vietnam fell to communism, a succession of other
countries in the developing world would as well. President Harry Truman decided
to intervene in Korea based on the lessons of the past: the Allies' failure to
stand up to the Axis powers before World War II and the West's
postwar success in firmly responding to communist aggression in Greece and
Berlin. President Richard Nixon's historic opening to China was shaped by his
brooding in the political wilderness about great-power strategy and his place
in it. The Obama administration's recent drumbeating about Iran is largely a
function of domestic politics. Advice from Langley, for better or worse, had
little to do with any of this.
Alex Wong/Getty Images
"Bad Intelligence Led to the Iraq War."
No, bad leadership did. Intelligence
may have figured prominently in Bush's selling of the invasion of Iraq, but it
played almost no role in the decision itself. If the intelligence community's
assessments pointed to any course of action, it was avoiding a war, not
launching one.
When U.S. Secretary of State Colin Powell went before the
United Nations in February 2003 to make the case for an invasion of Iraq, he
argued, "Saddam Hussein and his regime are concealing their efforts to produce
more weapons of mass destruction," an observation he said was "
based on solid
intelligence." But in a candid interview four months later, Deputy Defense
Secretary Paul Wolfowitz acknowledged that weapons of mass destruction
were
simply "the one issue that everyone could agree on." The intelligence community
was raising no alarms about the subject when the Bush administration came into
office; indeed, the
2001 edition of the community's comprehensive statement on
worldwide threats did not even mention the possibility of Iraqi nuclear weapons
or any stockpiles of chemical or biological weapons. The administration did not
request the (ultimately flawed) October 2002 intelligence estimate on Iraqi
unconventional weapons programs that was central to the official case for
invasion -- Democrats in Congress did, and only six senators and a handful of
representatives bothered to look at it before voting on the war, according to
staff members who kept custody of the copies. Neither Bush nor Condoleezza
Rice, then his national security advisor, read the entire estimate at the time,
and in any case the public relations rollout of the war was already under way
before the document was written.
Had Bush read the intelligence community's report, he would
have seen his administration's case for invasion stood on its head. The
intelligence officials concluded that Saddam was unlikely to use any weapons of
mass destruction against the United States or give them to terrorists -- unless
the United States invaded Iraq and tried to overthrow his regime. The
intelligence community did not believe, as the president claimed, that the
Iraqi regime was an ally of al Qaeda, and it correctly foresaw any attempt to
establish democracy in a post-Saddam Iraq as a hard, messy slog.
In a separate
prewar assessment, the intelligence community
judged that trying to build a new political system in Iraq would be "long,
difficult and probably turbulent,"
adding that any post-Saddam authority would
face a "deeply divided society with a significant chance that domestic groups
would engage in violent conflict with each other unless an occupying force
prevented them from doing so." Mentions of Iraqis welcoming U.S. soldiers with
flowers, or the war paying for itself, were notably absent. Needless to say,
none of that made any difference to the White House.
TIMOTHY A. CLARY/AFP/Getty Images
"Intelligence Failures Have Screwed Up U.S. Foreign Policy."
Hardly. The record of 20th-century U.S.
intelligence failures is a familiar one, and mostly indisputable. But whether
these failures -- or the successes -- mattered in the big picture is another
question.
The CIA predicted both the outbreak and the outcome
of the 1967 Six-Day War between Israel and neighboring Arab states, a feat
impressive enough that it reportedly won intelligence chief Richard Helms a
seat at President Johnson's Tuesday lunch table. Still, top-notch intelligence
couldn't help Johnson prevent the war, which produced the basic contours of
today's intractable Israeli-Palestinian conflict, and U.S. intelligence
completely failed to predict Egypt's surprise attack on Israel six years later.
Yet Egypt's nasty surprise in 1973 didn't stop Nixon and Secretary of State
Henry Kissinger from then achieving a diplomatic triumph, exploiting the
conflict to cement relations with Israel while expanding them with Egypt and
the other Arab states -- all at the Soviets' expense.
U.S. intelligence also famously failed to foresee the 1979
Iranian revolution. But it was policymakers' inattention to Iran and sharp
disagreements within President Jimmy Carter's administration, not bad
intelligence, that kept the United States from making tough decisions before
the shah's regime was at death's door. Even after months of disturbances in
Iranian cities, the Carter administration -- preoccupied as it was with the
Egypt-Israel peace negotiations and the Sandinistas' revolution in
Nicaragua -- still had not convened any high-level policy meetings on Iran. "Our
decision-making circuits were heavily overloaded," Zbigniew Brzezinski, Carter's
national security advisor,
later recalled.
Imperfect intelligence analysis about another coming
political upheaval -- the collapse of the Soviet Union -- did not matter; the
overriding influence on U.S. policy toward the USSR in the 1980s was
Ronald Reagan's instincts. From the earliest days of his presidency, the notion
that the Soviet Union was doomed to fail -- and soon -- was an article of faith for
the 40th president. "The Russians could never win the arms race," he
later
wrote. "We could outspend them forever."
AFP/Getty Images
"U.S. Intelligence Underestimated al Qaeda Before 9/11."
No, it didn't. Like any terrorist attack, Sept. 11,
2001, was by definition a tactical intelligence failure. But though
intelligence officials missed the attack, they didn't miss the threat. Years
before 9/11, the intelligence community, especially the CIA, devoted
unusually intense attention and effort to understanding Osama bin Laden's
organization. The CIA created a special bin Laden-focused unit in
early 1996, when al Qaeda was just beginning to take shape as the
anti-American, transnational terrorist group we now know. President Bill
Clinton
stated in 1998 that "terrorism is at the top of the American agenda."
He also launched a covert-action program against al Qaeda that included
developing plans to capture bin Laden, even before the 1998 bombings of U.S.
embassies in Africa.
When Clinton's national security officials handed over duties
to their Bush administration successors, they emphasized the threat that would
materialize on 9/11. Sandy Berger, the outgoing national security advisor,
told
Rice, "You're going to spend more time during your four years on terrorism
generally and al Qaeda specifically than [on] any other issue." If more was not
done in advance of 9/11 to counter the threat, it was because rallying public
support for anything like a war in Afghanistan or costly, cumbersome security
measures at home would have been politically impossible before terrorists
struck the United States.
The most authoritative evidence of the intelligence
community's pre-9/11 understanding of the subject is that same
February 2001 worldwide
threat statement that never mentioned Iraqi nukes or stockpiles of
unconventional weapons. Instead it identified terrorism, and al Qaeda in
particular, as the No. 1 threat to U.S. security -- ahead of weapons
proliferation, the rise of China, and everything else. Bin Laden and his
associates, the report said, were "the most immediate and serious threat" and
were "capable of planning multiple attacks with little or no warning." It was
all too correct.
STEPHEN JAFFE/AFP/Getty Images
"Hidebound Intelligence Agencies Refuse to Change."
You'd be surprised. Criticism of U.S. intelligence
agencies -- at least the non-paranoid kind -- tends to portray them as stodgy bureaucracies that use their
broad mandate for secrecy to shield themselves from the oversight that would make them do their jobs better. But
the great majority of effective intelligence reforms have come from inside, not
outside.
The organizational charts of the CIA and other U.S.
intelligence agencies have undergone frequent and sometimes drastic revision, a
recognition of the need to adapt to the rapidly changing world the agencies
monitor and analyze. The CIA merged its analytic units covering East and
West Germany in expectation of German reunification well before German unity
was achieved in 1990. Other measures, such as developing greater
foreign-language ability or training analysts in more sophisticated techniques,
have been the focus of concentrated attention inside the agencies for years.
The most effective, and probably most revolutionary, change in the intelligence
community's work on terrorism was the creation of the CIA's
Counterterrorist Center in 1986 -- a successful experiment that broke bureaucratic
crockery, gathering previously separated collectors, analysts, and other
specialists together to work side by side.
Reforms pursued from outside have received more public
attention but have accomplished far less. After 9/11, the intelligence
community underwent a reorganization when Congress acted on the 9/11
Commission's recommendation to make all spy agencies answerable to a single
director of national intelligence. But the move has not, as hoped, unified the
intelligence community, instead creating yet another agency sitting
precariously atop 16 others. Because both the new director's office and the
National Counterterrorism Center -- another commission recommendation -- added to,
rather than replaced, existing government functions, they have further confused
lines of responsibility. This much was made clear when would-be terrorist Umar
Farouk Abdulmutallab tried to blow up a Detroit-bound passenger jet on
Christmas Day 2009. The incident led to the same sorts of recriminations as
those after 9/11, about information not being collated and dots not being
connected -- only this time they were aimed at the 9/11 Commission's own creations.
Tom Williams/Roll Call
"Intelligence Has Gotten Better Since 9/11."
Yes, but not for the
reasons you think. Having a veritable blank check for a
decade makes a difference, of course. The big post-9/11 boom in the
intelligence budget -- which has doubled since 2001, according to the Senate
Intelligence Committee -- has at least marginally improved the odds of discovering
the next nugget of information that will enable the United States to roll up a
major terrorist plot or take down a bad guy.
But it was the dramatic and obvious change in U.S. priorities
following 9/11 that made the most difference. Counterterrorism, more than any
other intelligence mission, depends on close collaboration with other
governments, which have the critical firsthand knowledge, local police, and
investigative powers that the United States usually lacks. Prior to 9/11, those
governments' willingness to cooperate was often meager, especially when it
meant discomfiting local interests. After 9/11, however, U.S. officials could
pound on the desks of their foreign counterparts and say, "This time we really
mean it." Some results of this sea change -- successes in freezing or seizing
terrorists' financial assets, for example -- have been visible. Many others have
been necessarily less so. Future success or failure in tracking threats such as
anti-U.S. extremism in South Asia will similarly depend more on the state of
U.S.-Pakistan relations than on the performance of the bureaucracy back in
Washington.
Cooperation among governments' counterterrorism services has
often continued despite political differences between governments themselves.
Ultimately, however, such cooperation rests on the goodwill the United States
enjoys and the health of its relationships around the world. As 9/11 recedes
into history, states' willingness to share information is a depleting asset. We appropriately think
of intelligence as an important aid to foreign policy, but we also need to
remember how much foreign policy affects intelligence.
Michael Williamson/The Washington Post
"Good Intelligence Can Save Us From Bad Surprises."
We wish. Early last February, barely a week
before the Arab Spring ended the three-decade presidency of Egypt's Hosni
Mubarak, Sen. Dianne Feinstein, chair of the Senate Intelligence Committee,
grilled a CIA official in a Capitol Hill hearing room. "The president,
the secretary of state, and the Congress are making policy decisions on Egypt,
and those policymakers deserve timely intelligence analysis," Feinstein
told
Stephanie O'Sullivan, then the CIA's associate deputy director. "I have
doubts whether the intelligence community lived up to its obligations in this
area."
Feinstein was hardly the only one to criticize U.S.
intelligence agencies' inability to predict the speed at which the fire lit by
Tunisian fruit vendor Mohamed Bouazizi, who immolated himself on Dec. 17, 2010,
would spread throughout the Arab world. But all the bureaucratic overhauls and investigative
commissions in the world can't change one incontrovertible fact: Many things we
would like our intelligence services to know are too complex to model or
predict. What the community should be expected to provide -- and, based on the
limited publicly available evidence, apparently did provide -- is a strategic
understanding of conditions and attitudes that, given the right spark, could
ignite into a full-blown revolution.
The most recent recriminations and inquiries are only the
latest in a long line dating back to the 1941 surprise attack on Pearl Harbor.
The resources devoted to intelligence have increased substantially over the
past seven decades, and intelligence agencies are continually looking for ways
to improve how they do their business. But no amount of moving around boxes on
a flowchart can eliminate unpleasant surprises, and there will always be new challenges --
especially in an age of endlessly proliferating information.
Intelligence can help manage uncertainty, defining its scope
and specifying what is known and what is likely to stay unknown. It can
distinguish true uncertainty from simple ignorance by systematically assembling
all available information, but it cannot eliminate uncertainty and it cannot
prevent all surprises, including some big ones. Leaders must accept this
reality; they must expect -- and prepare -- to be surprised.
With due acknowledgment to
Donald Rumsfeld, it also means expecting
unknown unknowns. Not only will we not
know all the right answers -- we will not even be asking all the right questions.