Tag: Vietnam war

  • Guerrilla Air Defence: Strategy of the Underdog

    Guerrilla Air Defence: Strategy of the Underdog

    Guerrilla air defence is a testament to human ingenuity in asymmetrical warfare. Irregular forces can challenge even the most sophisticated air powers by adapting low-cost solutions, decentralised tactics, innovative technologies, and asymmetrical strategies.

    In the modern era of warfare, air superiority has become a cornerstone of military strategy. Nations with advanced air forces often dominate battlefields, leveraging precision-guided munitions, reconnaissance drones, and stealth technology. However, guerrilla forces, lacking comparable resources, have developed innovative air defence strategies to counter such overwhelming air dominance. Guerrilla air defence embodies the ingenuity of the underdog, employing asymmetric tactics and exploiting weaknesses in advanced air forces.

    Guerrilla Air Defence

    Guerrilla air defence refers to the methods and tactics employed by ground forces, mainly non-state actors or irregular forces, to counter the overwhelming aerial superiority of state militaries. In modern conflicts, air dominance often plays a pivotal role in determining outcomes, and ground forces must innovate to level the battlefield. These tactics range from using man-portable air defence systems (MANPADS) to employing deception, leveraging urban terrain, and deploying counter-drone measures.                                  

    Historical Background

    Mujahideen firing a Stinger (Soviet-Afghan War 1979-89): Image Credit-wikimedia commons

    Vietcongs in action against US aircraft during Vietnam War 1965-1975 (Image – www.thearmorylife.com)

    The concept of guerrilla air defence emerged during the Cold War, as smaller forces sought ways to combat technologically superior opponents. Early examples include the North Vietnamese forces, with Soviet and Chinese support, employing a mix of surface-to-air missiles (SAMs), anti-aircraft artillery (AAA), and man-portable air defence systems (MANPADS) to counter American air supremacy. The infamous downing of U.S. planes over Hanoi—dubbed “SAM City”—highlighted the effectiveness of such strategies. During the Afghan-Soviet War (1979-1989), Afghan mujahideen famously utilised U.S.-supplied Stinger missiles to neutralise Soviet helicopters and jets, turning the tide in specific regions and undermining Soviet morale. These historical precedents set the stage for modern guerrilla air defence tactics, which blend ingenuity, adaptability, and external support.

     Principles of Guerilla Air Defence

    Mobility and Concealment: Mobility and concealment are fundamental to guerrilla air defence. Unlike conventional militaries that deploy fixed air defence installations, guerrilla forces rely on portable systems and improvised techniques to remain undetected. Camouflage, underground networks, and rapid movement are essential to avoid detection by aerial surveillance. Guerrilla fighters exploit natural and urban terrain to conceal their positions, using forests, mountains, and cityscapes as cover.

    Decentralisation: Unlike conventional forces, guerrillas rely on dispersed, mobile, small, independent cells. This limits the effectiveness of an enemy’s centralised air strikes and ensures survivability by reducing the risk of total system compromise if one group is detected.

    Exploiting Vulnerabilities: Guerrilla air defence capitalises on the inherent vulnerabilities of modern air power. Helicopters and battlefield air support aircraft often operate at low altitudes and are prime targets for guerrilla forces. Air forces operating in conflict zones usually follow predictable flight paths or schedules. Guerrilla forces use intelligence and reconnaissance to identify and exploit these patterns.

    Innovation, Improvisation and Resource Maximisation: Guerrillas rely on improvised systems, salvaged weaponry, and external aid to bolster their capabilities. Guerrilla air defence thrives on innovation, often repurposing civilian technologies or adapting outdated equipment. Guerrilla groups have been known to convert commercial drones into makeshift anti-aircraft platforms or deploy modified artillery to target aircraft. Using decoys and false signals to mislead enemy pilots and air defence systems is a common tactic.

    Psychological and Strategic Impact: The psychological effects of guerrilla air defence extend beyond physical damage to aircraft. Even a limited success rate in downing aircraft can significantly reduce the adversary’s willingness to conduct low-risk operations. Each successful engagement serves as a propaganda tool, showcasing the resilience and effectiveness of the underdog.

    Modern Techniques in Guerilla Air Defence

    Modern technology, the fighting environment, and new systems and platforms influence the evolution of newer techniques of guerrilla warfare.

    MANPADS: MANPADS have revolutionised guerrilla air defence due to their portability, ease of use, and effectiveness against low-flying aircraft. One of the most effective tools in guerrilla air defence is using MANPADS, such as the American-made FIM-92 Stinger or the Russian Igla systems. Small teams can carry these portable missile systems and target low-flying aircraft, including helicopters and drones. By utilising these weapons in ambushes or from concealed positions, ground forces can inflict significant damage on technologically superior adversaries, as demonstrated in Afghanistan during the 1980s and the recent Russia-Ukraine war.

    Innovations: While less mobile than MANPADS, AAA remains a staple of guerrilla air defence. Improvised mounts, hidden emplacements, and integration with civilian infrastructure enhance its effectiveness. Groups frequently modify heavy machine guns and anti-aircraft guns like the ZSU-23-4 Shilka. These systems are often mounted on trucks for mobility and used to target low-altitude threats. While less precise than missiles, their volume of fire can pose a substantial threat to helicopters and low-flying planes.

    Urban Environment: Urban environments provide an advantage for the ground forces due to the dense infrastructure that limits aircraft manoeuvrability.  Ground fighters use rooftops, narrow streets, and underground networks to evade detection and launch surprise attacks. In Syria and Iraq, insurgents have used such strategies to counter aerial operations by state and coalition forces.

    Drones: Modern airpower—characterised by drones, advanced jets, and electronic warfare capabilities—poses unique challenges to ground forces. The proliferation of drones has forced forces to develop countermeasures, such as portable jammers, anti-drone rifles, and improvised kinetic solutions like nets or small arms fire.

    Passive Measures: Camouflage and deception remain critical in evading aerial surveillance. Ground forces must rely on natural cover, decoy installations, and rapid mobility to avoid detection. In the Vietnam War, the Viet Cong famously used tunnels and dense jungle foliage to counter U.S. air superiority.

    Implications of Guerilla Air Defence on Modern Warfare

    Guerrilla air defence has emerged as a critical factor in modern warfare, reshaping the dynamics of aerial supremacy and asymmetric conflict. While these strategies aim to counter technologically superior air forces, they carry profound implications for guerrilla groups and conventional militaries. By disrupting aerial operations and imposing costs on powerful adversaries, guerrilla air defence challenges traditional military doctrines and influences the broader landscape of modern conflict.

    Prolonging Conflicts and Increasing Costs: Guerrilla air defence strategies can effectively neutralise or deter low-altitude operations. This capability forces adversaries to adapt, often at significant financial and operational costs. For instance, deploying advanced countermeasures, rerouting flight paths, or relying on high-altitude bombers requires additional resources. As a result, conflicts involving guerrilla air defence tend to become protracted, straining the logistics and finances of all involved parties. The prolonged nature of such conflicts can also erode public and political support for military interventions. For example, the psychological and economic toll of losing expensive aircraft or personnel to guerrilla defences can influence domestic perceptions of the conflict’s viability.

    Evolving Air Warfare Tactics: Conventional militaries must adapt their air warfare strategies to counter guerrilla air defence. This evolution includes increased reliance on high-altitude operations, precision-guided munitions, and stealth technology. Modern air forces also invest heavily in countermeasures such as infrared jammers, flares, and electronic warfare systems to neutralise guerrilla threats. The rise of guerrilla air defence has also accelerated the development of unmanned aerial systems (UAS) for reconnaissance, surveillance, and strike missions. Being expendable and capable of operating in hostile environments, drones minimise the risks associated with manned operations. This shift represents a significant transformation in aerial warfare, emphasising technology over traditional pilot-led missions.

    Impact on Urban and Asymmetric Warfare: Urban environments provide natural concealment and mobility advantages for guerrilla fighters, making them ideal battlegrounds for deploying guerrilla air defence systems. By leveraging civilian infrastructure and the complexity of urban terrain, guerrilla forces can create no-fly zones or deny access to key air corridors. This trend has made urban warfare increasingly challenging for conventional militaries, which must balance operational objectives with minimising civilian casualties and collateral damage.

    Proliferation of Advanced Technology: The success of guerrilla air defence has spurred the proliferation of advanced yet accessible technologies. MANPADS, drones, and electronic warfare tools have become increasingly available on the black market or through state sponsorship. This diffusion of technology not only empowers guerrilla groups but also raises concerns about their use by terrorist organisations or non-state actors in unconventional warfare.

    Redefining Air Superiority: In traditional warfare, air superiority was synonymous with dominance over adversaries. However, guerrilla air defence challenges this notion by proving that even technologically inferior forces can contest airspace. This shift underscores the importance of integrating multi-domain strategies considering ground-based threats alongside aerial operations. For example, in conflicts such as the Syrian Civil War or the Ukraine-Russia war, guerrilla air defence has demonstrated that controlling the skies no longer guarantees uncontested dominance on the ground. The interplay between air and ground forces requires a more nuanced approach, blending technology with adaptable tactics.

    Strategic and Political Implications: Guerrilla air defence imposes strategic dilemmas on conventional forces, often compelling them to overextend resources or adopt more cautious operational postures. This dynamic can undermine the perceived effectiveness of powerful militaries, affecting their credibility and deterring future interventions. Politically, the effectiveness of guerrilla air defence can shift the balance of power in asymmetric conflicts. By contesting air supremacy, guerrilla forces gain leverage in negotiations or peace processes, demonstrating their resilience and capacity to endure prolonged engagements.

    Challenges and Limitations of Guerilla Air Defence

    Guerrilla air defence, while innovative and impactful in certain situations, faces numerous challenges and limitations. These obstacles stem from technological gaps, resource constraints, and the inherent asymmetry between irregular forces and advanced air power.

    Technological Disparity: One of the primary challenges guerrilla groups face is the vast technological gulf between them and conventional military forces. Modern air forces deploy fifth-generation stealth aircraft, precision-guided munitions, and advanced surveillance systems. In contrast, guerrilla forces often rely on outdated or improvised equipment. While tools like man-portable air defence systems (MANPADS) can neutralise low-flying aircraft, they are ineffective against high-altitude bombers or stealth fighters. Advanced countermeasures, such as infrared jammers and decoys, further diminish the impact of guerrilla tactics.

    Logistics and Maintenance: Air defence systems, even portable ones, require robust logistical support. Maintaining and deploying these systems necessitates technical expertise, spare parts, and a steady supply of ammunition. Guerrilla groups, often operating in resource-scarce environments, struggle to sustain such logistical chains. Over time, wear and tear render many systems inoperable, and acquiring replacements or repairs can be risky and costly.

    Detection and Targeting Vulnerabilities: The effectiveness of guerrilla air defence relies heavily on concealment and mobility. However, advancements in surveillance technology, such as drones, satellite imagery, and AI-powered analytics, make it increasingly challenging for guerrilla forces to remain hidden. Once detected, these forces become vulnerable to precision strikes or overwhelming aerial assaults, negating their defensive efforts.

    Dependence on External Support: Guerrilla groups often depend on external states or entities to access advanced air defence systems. This reliance introduces vulnerabilities, as shifts in international politics or interruptions in supply chains can leave these groups without critical resources. For example, a sudden embargo or the withdrawal of support from a sponsor state can cripple guerrilla air defence capabilities.

    Financial Constraints: Air defence is inherently resource-intensive. Procuring, transporting, and maintaining systems like MANPADS or drones requires significant financial investment. Guerrilla groups operating with limited funding must prioritise resources across multiple operational needs, often leaving air defence underfunded. Moreover, the cost-benefit ratio usually favours their adversaries; an advanced air force can deploy inexpensive countermeasures or overwhelm defences with superior numbers.

    Psychological and Operational Strain: Constant exposure to aerial bombardments and the awareness of technological inferiority take a toll on guerrilla fighters’ morale. The strain of operating under the persistent threat of airstrikes can lead to operational inefficiencies and diminished cohesion. Furthermore, the psychological impact of losing critical assets, such as an air defence unit or a valuable weapon system, can significantly affect a group’s strategic planning.

    Limited Strategic Impact: Guerrilla air defence is inherently reactive, designed to mitigate air superiority rather than achieve dominance. While it can disrupt operations and impose costs on adversaries, it rarely shifts the overall balance of power in a conflict. This limitation means that guerrilla air defence is more a delaying tactic than a decisive strategy.

    Conclusion

     Guerrilla air defence is a testament to human ingenuity in asymmetrical warfare. Irregular forces can challenge even the most sophisticated air powers by adapting low-cost solutions, decentralised tactics, innovative technologies, and asymmetrical strategies. Guerrilla air defence’s implications for modern warfare are far-reaching, influencing military strategy, technology development, and conflict outcomes. While it disrupts aerial operations and challenges conventional doctrines, guerrilla air defence also faces significant limitations, such as resource constraints and susceptibility to countermeasures. Nevertheless, its role in redefining the dynamics of air superiority and asymmetric warfare highlights its growing importance in the ever-evolving landscape of modern conflict.

    References:

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    Feature Image Credit: www.reddit.com

    Image of US aircraft shot down by Vietnamese: https://en.topwar.ru

  • Reflections on “Peace” in Afghanistan: Leaving a Misguided War and Choosing Not to Look Back

    Reflections on “Peace” in Afghanistan: Leaving a Misguided War and Choosing Not to Look Back

    Kahlil Gibran, the Lebanese-American poet, artist, writer and philosopher, famously said ‘History does not repeat itself except in the minds of those who do not know history’. In today’s generation very few know and understand history, and so it is most likely that very few will see that the recent US-Taliban peace deal has an eerie resemblance to the end stage of the Vietnam war. US Special envoy, Zalmay Khalilzad and Taliban political chief, Mullah Abdul Ghani Baradar signed a ‘historic’ peace deal on February 29, 2020 in Doha, capital of Qatar  paving the way for ending two decades of American military fighting in Afghanistan and their return. In the context of the US-Taliban peace deal that raises more questions than answers, TPF revisits an article written by Andrew J Bacevich few months ago. Comparing the two similar situations (US-Vietcong deal and US-Taliban deal) in a very incisive analysis, Andrew Bacevich raises very relevant observations. Effectively this means that the US is exiting after conceding defeat to the Taliban and abandoning the Afghan government that it supported all this while. It would be only a matter of time before the Taliban, with active support from Pakistan, dismantles whatever semblance of stable governance and democracy that has been built over the last 15 years in war-torn Afghanistan. TPF

    This article was first published in “TomDispatch.com”    The Peninsula Foundation is happy to republish this article with permission from ‘TomDispatch.com’.  TPF  

    Andrew J Bacevich

    When the conflict that the Vietnamese refer to as the American War ended in April 1975, I was a U.S. Army captain attending a course at Fort Knox, Kentucky. In those days, the student body at any of our Army’s myriad schools typically included officers from the Army of the Republic of Vietnam (ARVN).

    Since ARVN’s founding two decades earlier, the United States had assigned itself the task of professionalizing that fledgling military establishment. Based on a conviction that the standards, methods, and ethos of our armed forces were universally applicable and readily exportable, the attendance of ARVN personnel at such Army schools was believed to contribute to the professionalizing of the South Vietnamese military.

    Evidence that the U.S. military’s own professional standards had recently taken a hit — memories of the My Lai massacre were then still fresh — elicited no second thoughts on our part. Association with American officers like me was sure to rub off on our South Vietnamese counterparts in ways that would make them better soldiers. So we professed to believe, even while subjecting that claim to no more scrutiny than we did the question of why most of us had spent a year or more of our lives participating in an obviously misbegotten and misguided war in Indochina.

    For serving officers at that time one question in particular remained off-limits (though it had been posed incessantly for years by antiwar protestors in the streets of America): Why Vietnam? Prizing compliance as a precondition for upward mobility, military service rarely encourages critical thinking.

    On the day that Saigon, the capital of the Republic of Vietnam, fell and that country ceased to exist, I approached one of my ARVN classmates, also a captain, wanting at least to acknowledge the magnitude of the disaster that had occurred. “I’m sorry about what happened to your country,” I told him.

    I did not know that officer well and no longer recall his name. Let’s call him Captain Nguyen. In my dim recollection, he didn’t even bother to reply. He simply looked at me with an expression both distressed and mournful. Our encounter lasted no more than a handful of seconds. I then went on with my life and Captain Nguyen presumably with his. Although I have no inkling of his fate, I like to think that he is now retired in Southern California after a successful career in real estate. But who knows?

    All I do know is that today I recall our exchange with a profound sense of embarrassment and even shame. My pathetic effort to console Captain Nguyen had been both presumptuous and inadequate. Far worse was my failure — inability? refusal? — to acknowledge the context within which that catastrophe was occurring: the United States and its armed forces had, over years, inflicted horrendous harm on the people of South Vietnam.

    In reality, their defeat was our defeat. Yet while we had decided that we were done paying, they were going to pay and pay for a long time to come.

    Rather than offering a fatuous expression of regret for the collapse of his country, I ought to have apologized for having played even a minuscule role in what was, by any measure, a catastrophe of epic proportions. It’s a wonder Captain Nguyen didn’t spit in my eye.

    I genuinely empathized with Captain Nguyen. Yet the truth is that, along with most other Americans, soldiers and civilians alike, I was only too happy to be done with South Vietnam and all its troubles. Dating back to the presidency of Dwight D. Eisenhower, the United States and its armed forces had made a gargantuan effort to impart legitimacy to the Republic of Vietnam and to coerce the Democratic Republic of Vietnam to its north into giving up its determination to exercise sovereignty over the entirety of the country. In that, we had failed spectacularly and at a staggering cost.

    “Our” war in Indochina — the conflict we chose to call the Vietnam War — officially ended in January 1973 with the signing in Paris of an “Agreement Ending the War and Restoring Peace in Vietnam.” Under the terms of that fraudulent pact, American prisoners of war were freed from captivity in North Vietnam and the last U.S. combat troops in the south left for home, completing a withdrawal begun several years earlier. Primary responsibility for securing the Republic of Vietnam thereby fell to ARVN, long deemed by U.S. commanders incapable of accomplishing that mission.

    Meanwhile, despite a nominal cessation of hostilities, approximately 150,000 North Vietnamese regulars still occupied a large swathe of South Vietnamese territory — more or less the equivalent to agreeing to end World War II when there were still several German panzer tank divisions lurking in Belgium’s Ardennes Forest. In effect, our message to our enemy and our ally was this: We’re outta here; you guys sort this out. In a bit more than two years, that sorting-out process would extinguish the Republic of Vietnam.

    Been There, Done That

    The course Captain Nguyen and I were attending in the spring of 1975 paid little attention to fighting wars like the one that, for years, had occupied the attention of my army and his. Our Army, in fact, was already moving on. Having had their fill of triple-canopy jungles in Indochina, America’s officer corps now turned to defending the Fulda Gap, the region in West Germany deemed most hospitable to a future Soviet invasion. As if by fiat, gearing up to fight those Soviet forces and their Warsaw Pact allies, should they (however improbably) decide to take on NATO and lunge toward the English Channel, suddenly emerged as priority number one. At Fort Knox and throughout the Army’s ranks, we were suddenly focused on “high-intensity combined arms operations” — essentially, a replay of World War II-style combat with fancier weaponry. In short, the armed forces of the United States had reverted to “real soldiering.”

    And so it is again today. At the end of the 17th year of what Americans commonly call the Afghanistan War — one wonders what name Afghans will eventually assign it — U.S. military forces are moving on. Pentagon planners are shifting their attention back to Russia and China. Great power competition has become the name of the game. However we might define Washington’s evolving purposes in its Afghanistan War — “nation building,” “democratization,” “pacification” — the likelihood of mission accomplishment is nil. As in the early 1970s, so in 2019, rather than admitting failure, the Pentagon has chosen to change the subject and is once again turning its attention to “real soldiering.”

    Remember the infatuation with counterinsurgency (commonly known by its acronym COIN) that gripped the national security establishment around 2007 when the Iraq “surge” overseen by General David Petraeus briefly ranked alongside Gettysburg as a historic victory? Well, these days promoting COIN as the new American way of war has become, to put it mildly, a tough sell. Given that few in Washington will openly acknowledge the magnitude of the military failure in Afghanistan, the incentive for identifying new enemies in settings deemed more congenial becomes all but irresistible.

    Only one thing is required to validate this reshuffling of military priorities. Washington needs to create the appearance, as in 1973, that it’s exiting Afghanistan on its own terms. What’s needed, in short, is an updated equivalent of that “Agreement Ending the War and Restoring Peace in Vietnam.”

    Until last weekend, the signing of such an agreement seemed imminent. Donald Trump and his envoy, former ambassador to Afghanistan Zalmay Khalilzad, appeared poised to repeat the trick that President Richard Nixon and National Security Advisor Henry Kissinger pulled off in 1973 in Paris: pause the war and call it peace. Should fighting subsequently resume after a “decent interval,” it would no longer be America’s problem.  Now, however, to judge by the president’s Twitter account — currently the authoritative record of U.S. diplomacy — the proposed deal has been postponed, or perhaps shelved, or even abandoned altogether.  If National Security Advisor John Bolton has his way, U.S. forces might just withdraw in any case, without an agreement of any sort being signed.

    Based on what we can divine from press reports, the terms of that prospective Afghan deal would mirror those of the 1973 Paris Accords in one important respect. It would, in effect, serve as a ticket home for the remaining U.S. and NATO troops still in that country (though for the present only the first 5,000of them would immediately depart). Beyond that, the Taliban was to promise not to provide sanctuary to anti-American terrorist groups, even though the Afghan branch of ISIS is already firmly lodged there. Still, this proviso would allow the Trump administration to claim that it had averted any possible recurrence of the 9/11 terror attacks that were, of course, planned by Osama bin Laden while residing in Afghanistan in 2001 as a guest of the Taliban-controlled government. Mission accomplished, as it were.

    Back in 1973, North Vietnamese forces occupying parts of South Vietnam neither disarmed nor withdrew. Should this new agreement be finalized, Taliban forces currently controlling or influencing significant swaths of Afghan territory will neither disarm nor withdraw. Indeed, their declared intention is to continue fighting.

    In 1973, policymakers in Washington were counting on ARVN to hold off Communist forces. In 2019, almost no one expects Afghan security forces to hold off a threat consisting of both the Taliban and ISIS. In a final insult, just as the Saigon government was excluded from U.S. negotiations with the North Vietnamese, so, too, has the Western-installed government in Kabul been excluded from U.S. negotiations with its sworn enemy, the Taliban.

    A host of uncertainties remain.  As with the olive branches that President Trump has ostentatiously offered to Russia, China, and North Koea, this particular peace initiative may come to naught — or, given the approach of the 2020 elections, he may decide that Afghanistan offers his last best hope of claiming at least one foreign policy success. One way or another, in all likelihood, the deathwatch for the U.S.-backed Afghan government has now begun. One thing only is for sure. Having had their fill of Afghanistan, when the Americans finally leave, they won’t look back. In that sense, it will be Vietnam all over again.

    What Price Peace?

    However great my distaste for President Trump, I support his administration’s efforts to extricate the United States from Afghanistan. I do so for the same reason I supported the Paris Peace Accords of 1973. Prolonging this folly any longer does not serve U.S. interests. Rule number one of statecraft ought to be: when you’re doing something really stupid, stop. To my mind, this rule seems especially applicable when the lives of American soldiers are at stake.

    In Vietnam, Washington wasted 58,000 of those lives for nothing. In Afghanistan, we have lost more than 2,300 troops, with another 20,000 wounded, again for next to nothing. Last month, two American Special Forces soldiers were killed in a firefight in Faryab Province. For what?

    That said, I’m painfully aware of the fact that, on the long-ago day when I offered Captain Nguyen my feeble condolences, I lacked the imagination to conceive of the trials about to befall his countrymen. In the aftermath of the American War, something on the order of 800,000 Vietnamese took to open and unseaworthy boats to flee their country. According to estimates by the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees, between 200,000 and 400,000 boat people died at sea. Most of those who survived were destined to spend years in squalid refugee camps scattered throughout Southeast Asia. Back in Vietnam itself, some 300,000 former ARVN officers and South Vietnamese officials were imprisoned in so-called reeducation camps for up to 18 years. Reconciliation did not rank high on the postwar agenda of the unified country’s new leaders.

    Meanwhile, for the Vietnamese, north and south, the American War has in certain ways only continued. Mines and unexploded ordnance left from that war have inflicted more than 100,000 casualties since the last American troops departed. Even today, the toll caused by Agent Orange and other herbicides that the U.S. Air Force sprayed with abandon over vast stretches of territory continues to mount. The Red Cross calculates that more than one million Vietnamese have suffered health problems, including serious birth defects and cancers as a direct consequence of the promiscuous use of those poisons as weapons of war.

    For anyone caring to calculate the moral responsibility of the United States for its actions in Vietnam, all of those would have to find a place on the final balance sheet. The 1.3 million Vietnamese admitted to the United States as immigrants since the American War formally concluded can hardly be said to make up for the immense damage suffered by the people of Vietnam as a direct or indirect result of U.S. policy.

    As to what will follow if Washington does succeed in cutting a deal with the Taliban, well, don’t count on President Trump (or his successor for that matter) welcoming anything like 1.3 million Afghan refugees to the United States once a “decent interval” has passed. Yet again, our position will be: we’re outta here; you guys sort this out.

    Near the end of his famed novel, The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald described two of his privileged characters, Tom and Daisy, as “careless people” who “smashed up things and creatures” and then “retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness” to “let other people clean up the mess they had made.” That description applies to the United States as a whole, especially when Americans tire of a misguided war. We are a careless people. In Vietnam, we smashed up things and human beings with abandon, only to retreat into our money, leaving others to clean up the mess in a distinctly bloody fashion.

    Count on us, probably sooner rather than later, doing precisely the same thing in Afghanistan.

    Image Credit: www.upi.com