area of Pakistan. Notably, the most charismatic of al Qaeda’s leaders, Osama bin Laden,
escaped to remain a thorn in America’s flesh. Also, despite the success of the 2001
campaign to impose regime change in Kabul and deprive al Qaeda of its country-wide
safe haven, the Taliban proved to be akin to a weed that is resistant to forceful efforts at
eradication. At present it is alive and well, and is prospering in its areas of traditional
strength in the south and east of the country.
George W. Bush’s administration had Iraq on its mind even while Afghanistan was
the swamp of the moment. But to invade Iraq and compel regime change would prove
as controversial as the action in Afghanistan had been met with general international
approval, nominally at least. (One must offer the qualification because many states were
troubled by the new assertiveness, even what they perceived as aggressiveness, in
American policy long before the invasion of Iraq.) Although the United States had been
enjoying its protracted unipolar moment since the demise of the Soviet Union, it had not
really behaved as one might expect a hegemonic or imperial power to act. Until 9/11, that
is. Following that dire event, the United States made haste to make up for lost time in
asserting itself as the active global leader in a war, almost a crusade, to extirpate violent
Islamic extremism.
The events of 9/11 acted as a wake-up call to the United States, as well as to some
of its friends and allies in Asia and Europe. If al Qaeda’s intention was to stir America
into responsive action that could prove self-defeating, it could hardly have been more
successful. Assuming that Osama bin Laden’s real enemies are in the realm of Islam and
not in the West, it was notable that he and his confederates chose to attack targets in the
media capital of the world. Moreover, the attacks were visually so dramatic that they give
the idea of ‘propaganda of the deed’ a whole new meaning. Most particularly, though, on
9/11 al Qaeda took action that its leaders probably calculated would place them in a
win–win situation. If the US response was feeble, as it had been throughout the 1990s,
then that would encourage potential jihadists, and discourage America’s allies and other
moderate and even secular governments in the land of Islam. But if America reacted
strongly and violently, and took direct military action, the intrusion should arouse the
Islamic world and motivate many new recruits for al Qaeda in the holy cause of the
defence of their religion and its holy territory.
The precise reasoning behind 9/11 is unknown, but its consequences are an open book.
This illustrates a general truth of strategic history. Causes are often endlessly debatable,
whereas outcomes are far more certain. The principal immediate effect of 9/11 was to
prompt a radical shift in US national security policy and strategy. From being disinclined
to intervene abroad, even for noble humanitarian reasons or to advance democracy and
other American values, the United States quite suddenly assumed a vigorously proactive
stance. It declared war on terror, terrorists and those who gave them comfort and support.
The Bush administration reasoned that American quiescence in the 1990s, despite the
ample evidence of a growing Islamic terrorist threat, had contributed decisively to the
maturing of al Qaeda and hence to 9/11.
It was true that al Qaeda did not reveal itself out of the mountains and desert wastes
in 2001 as a complete surprise. With the benefit of hindsight, ever the best friend of the
strategic historian, the incident trail leading to the Twin Towers and the Pentagon is all
too apparent. Following its founding in Afghanistan in 1988, al Qaeda, basking in the
glory of victory over the hated Russian infidel, was responsible for a string of atrocities.
9/11 and the age of terror 237