Yemen's fractured tribal politics reveal the shallowness of Washington's current debate about targeted killing.
The Sheikh's son looked more like an American cowboy that a Yemeni tribesman. Wiry and weathered with a black, close-cropped beard, Abdullah wore the wry smile and haunted intensity of a leader under siege. Where other men of his station strutted about Sana'a with mirrored Ray-Bans and semiautomatic pistols, this tribal militia commander carried a battered revolver in a leather holster stained with sweat and gun oil. Abdullah and his brothers had little time for social pretence or political intrigues. Here, in the barren moonscape outside Aden, they were waging their own private war against al-Qaeda in the Arabian Peninsula.
We sipped green coffee from a thermos as Abdullah described U.S. drone strikes and the indigenous backlash against them. "It's not black and white," he explained. "In my region, the drones are hurting al-Qaeda, but there's no coordination with sheikhs at the local level." He shrugged and started at the floor, pausing to think. "We need the help," he sighed. "As leaders we can accept the drones, but America must know that our people will never accept another massacre like Majala."
Abduallah's words capture the dilemma facing decision-makers across Yemen. Cognizant of their own divisions and al-Qaeda's persistent presence, the tribal and religious leaders I interviewed last summer privately described drones strikes as a necessary evil. Yet in the same breath many recalled the December 2009 cruise missile strike on Majala, which killed forty-one innocents -- including twenty-two children and five pregnant women. Framed by this tragedy and fueled by deep suspicion of U.S. intentions, many of the Yemenis I met associated airstrikes with drone strikes, and drone strikes with civilian casualties. In their view, drones presented an irreconcilable choice between justice and security.
For many Yemenis, drones present an irreconcilable choice between justice and security.
Similar dilemmas shape U.S. debates on drone-based targeted killing. Where White House officials describe drones as "legal, ethical, and wise," civil libertarians cast them as part of an inexorable march toward unconstitutional wars, unaccountable leaders, and unchecked executive power. Where military commanders emphasize the efficacy and necessity of targeted killings, legal scholars see looming threats to due process, human rights, and international peace. Against the backdrop of John Brennan's recent Senate confirmation hearing for CIA director, drones have become a proxy for normative battles over the War on Terrorism in much the same way that they encapsulate the frustrations shaping Yemen's Arab Spring.
These debates are as sterile as they are predictable. By recycling familiar pro- and anti-war tropes, pundits and policy makers ignore nuances in the field. By reducing liberty and security to immutable absolutes, they animate political activists with no common language and even less common ground. And by focusing on platforms rather than policies, they perpetuate a dangerous tendency to divorce the laws and instruments of war from the objectives they serve. These false dichotomies make for great headlines, but ultimately they tell us little about the principles that govern how we fight or the places where we are actually fighting.
Recent furor over the Justice Department's memorandum on targeted killings is a case in point. Although the memo focused narrowly on "a U.S. Citizen who is a senior al-Qaeda operational leader" in a foreign war zone, commentators speculated broadly about a "permanent drone war" and its implications "U.S. civilians" on the home front. Many likened targeted killings to torture, casually comparing drone strikes against belligerents found on the battlefield with the Bush Administration's decision to waterboard detainees in U.S. custody. So long as terrorism is concerned, it seems, the U.S. Government is guilty until proven innocent.
On one level, these critiques reflect growing frustration with the Global War on Terror. Despite more than a decade of enhanced surveillance at home and extended campaigns abroad, U.S. officials have never articulated clear, objective criteria distinguishing al-Qaeda and its followers from indigenous groups with more parochial motives. This approach leaves them over-reliant on intelligence from host governments. It also produces an over-inclusive target set based on the so-called "signatures" associated with terrorist activity. The costs of these oversights are evident in Yemen today, where drone strikes have mistakenly killed tribal leaders who were fighting al-Qaeda. While drones may be less risky than boots on the ground, no strategy can succeed by turning potential allies into resentful neutrals.