Our experiment in militarizing the region has made it more volatile, less free, and more costly to American interests and values
The final U.S. convoy prepares to leave Iraq / AP
The U.S. is finally drawing down its military presence from Iraq, but why stop there? Why not reduce or outright remove our military presence from the entire Persian Gulf? The U.S. has been waging war in the Gulf for more than two and a half decades, since it took up arms against Iran in the closing stages of the Iran-Iraq war. The human and environmental costs have been catastrophic. The presumptive gains of what has amounted to one long war have proven elusive at best. More often that not, the justifications for war have been either ill-conceived or manufactured. The Persian Gulf today is hardly stable or secure. But permanent war, and our militarization of the Gulf, isn't so much a reflection of regional instability as it is the cause.
Today, it's still not clear what the United States' strategic priorities are in the Gulf. Are we there to secure access to oil? Protect friendly regimes from unfriendly ones? American policymaking is muddled, a combination of concern about energy security, Iranian aggression, and terrorism. This uncertainty is perilous. And the reality is that none of these challenges really require a significant military presence. Indeed, if recent history is any guide, a large military footprint in the Gulf will generate more rather than less risk.
Historically, oil and "energy security" have been at the heart of American strategy in the Gulf. It is home to the richest oil and natural gas deposits on the planet. It was President Jimmy Carter who most clearly made protecting the flow of oil to global markets a national priority. Carter declared oil a "vital interest" and that any assault on it would "be repelled by any means necessary, including military force." Protecting oil meant protecting its producers. Indeed, much of the war-fighting of the last two decades has been rationalized as necessary to defend Kuwait and Saudi Arabia, and their oil, from neighborhood threats. The economic logic that has underpinned all this is based mostly on an assumption that oil is a scarce resource, that there is a tight gap between supply and demand, that ensuring supply is essential to stabilize prices and to protect the global economy from potentially devastating disruptions.
None of that is really true. For most of the 20th century, oil companies and oil producing states regularly collaborated to regulate supply in order to limit competition and control prices. There never has been a global oil market. Instead, oil's production and delivery has been managed by a small network of corporate and national energy elites, whose primary concern has been serving their own interests and maintaining their bottom line.
Among the few to benefit from high oil prices are global weapons manufacturers. Oil states have recycled hundreds of billions of dollars in oil revenues through Western economies by purchasing high-tech and expensive weapons systems. A year ago, Saudi Arabia committed to purchasing a staggering $60 billion in new weapons from the United States. In spite of spending outlandish amounts to procure of some of the world's most modern weapons, Saudi Arabia has not been able to defend itself. Instead, the burden of protecting Saudi Arabia falls on the United States. Advocates of this arrangement argue that the influx of cash is good for the American economy and that it creates jobs in parts of the country that need them. Oil money also helps pay for expensive military research and development projects, deflecting some of the cost of weapons design from American taxpayers. This may all be true, but it also contributes to the militarization and destabilization of the Gulf.
The world today is awash in oil and natural gas. Protecting the flow of oil from the Persian Gulf to global markets is far less necessary than it once was. Over the past generation, Saudi Arabia, Iran, and the other oil producers in the region have grown accustomed to bloated national budgets and expensive state-run, cradle-to-grave welfare services, which means that there is greater pressure on them to sell oil than to horde it.
Since the fall of the Shah in 1979, U.S. policy of containing Iran has arguably been linked to its energy security. Of course there's been more at stake than just oil, and since the 2003 invasion of Iraq, concerns about Iran's growing assertiveness and influence in the region have eclipsed those about energy security, at least in public political discourse. It is difficult to untangle where American concerns about Iran overlap with its desire to protect regional allies, and whose interests are primarily being served by the United States' policy of non-engagement.
Led by Saudi Arabia, the Arab Gulf states claim that their fears of Iranian ambition are existential. It is certainly true that Tehran is locked in a regional balance of power struggle with Saudi Arabia and that Iran seeks greater influence. But Iran does not seek the destruction of Saudi Arabia or the overthrow of Arab world's political order. In spite of claims to the contrary by the Saudi and Bahraini governments, Iran's revolutionary imperative is a relic of the past. Israel expresses a similar anxiety about Iran as a security threat. And Iran's leaders have played their part in fostering Israeli uncertainty. Iran's potential acquisition of nuclear weapons is a source of concern, of course, as is its support for Hezbollah and Syria. The challenge of how best to deal with Iranian ambition, however, is mainly a political problem, one that has for too long been treated almost entirely through the lens of security and militarism.