Known and Unknown (45 page)

This was one of the lessons of Vietnam for me. I thought the Vietnamization strategy of President Nixon and Secretary of Defense Mel Laird, to push America's South Vietnamese allies to do more for themselves, would have been far more effective, perhaps decisive, if it had been implemented from the outset of the war. In Afghanistan there was at least a possibility that the United States could play a supporting rather than a leading role in the fight against al-Qaida and the Taliban from the beginning.

On September 30, 2001, I outlined our approach for Afghanistan to President Bush as part of a broader framework for the fight against terrorists. Given the scope of al-Qaida's reach, as well as that of other groups in the web of international networks of Islamist extremists, I thought we needed to start thinking early about how this larger campaign might take shape.

I developed this approach during lengthy consultations with Myers, Franks, and the senior civilians in the Pentagon, including Paul Wolfowitz, Doug Feith, and Peter Rodman. The memo setting out this framework was an example of the constructive working relationships at the senior levels of the Department of Defense—military and civilian. We would meet and then circulate draft papers. It started with some preliminary ideas that were then reviewed and polished until we were reasonably satisfied with what was truly a collaborative product, though it came under my signature.

Because the global task that lay ahead was too big, too broad, and too multidimensional for us to think we could rely exclusively on American military forces, I suggested the following to the President:

In the Afghan war's early phases, it was especially important that the United States work with local groups to develop better intelligence before initiating major air strikes, so as to minimize civilian casualties.
⁸
We did not want our war of self-defense and our fight against extremist regimes, which oppressed their Muslim citizens, to be symbolized by images of Americans killing Muslims. The signal we needed to send, I wrote, was that “our goal is not merely to damage terrorist-supporting regimes but to threaten their regimes by becoming partners with their opponents.”
⁹

 

T
he Northern Alliance was not to be our only support in this campaign. In a matter of weeks, President Bush and the Departments of State and Defense had brought together a coalition of dozens of supportive nations. At CENTCOM headquarters in Tampa, Franks assembled a “coalition village,” where representatives from partner nations provided input. Britain, Canada, Germany, and Australia offered infantry, aircraft, naval units, and special operations forces. Japan was prepared to send refueling ships, destroyers, and transport aircraft. France and Italy each offered to deploy an aircraft carrier battle group. In all more than sixty-nine nations would eventually contribute to the coalition effort in Afghanistan.
¹⁰

As CENTCOM finalized the war plan, Myers and I communicated daily with Franks and his deputy, Marine Lieutenant General Mike DeLong. I believed that Washington policy makers should, as a rule, show considerable deference to the professional judgments of the combatant commander. But the plan being developed for Afghanistan was not an off-the-shelf one that had been war-gamed and practiced. We did not have a longstanding doctrine on how to conduct this sort of war. Therefore, the chiefs and DoD civilians helped hone the approach before Franks presented it to the President and the National Security Council. The hard-charging Franks was not always delighted with what he considered to be an overabundance of advice but, in the end, he told me, he felt the results were worth it.

As I had hoped and expected when Franks first briefed the President, the plan he eventually developed was a substantial improvement. It would begin with a major air campaign. Bombs and cruise missiles first would target the Taliban's few radars, limited air-defense systems, and command-and-control facilities, weakening their ability to coordinate a counterattack. Strike fighters from aircraft carriers—the USS
Enterprise
and the USS
Carl Vinson
—off the coast of Pakistan, B-2 stealth bombers flying on seventy-hour sorties from Whiteman Air Force Base in Missouri, and B-52s staging out of Diego Garcia, an island in the Indian Ocean, would hit suspect targets across Afghanistan. Helicopters would insert our special operations teams—over time numbering some two hundred individuals—to link up with anti-Taliban militia commanders. Once embedded, our special operators would call in American air support for Northern Alliance ground operations as well as provide supplies for our new allies. A relatively small contingent—several thousand conventional Army soldiers and Marines—would follow to help deal with remaining enemy fighters that the Northern Alliance and special operations forces had not killed or forced to surrender. Additional forces would be on alert if Franks determined they were needed.

One of the most innovative elements was a merger of the CIA's broad authorities and experienced intelligence operatives with the Defense Department's greater military resources. CIA teams would make first contact with the Northern Alliance elements and lay the groundwork for American military cooperation. The next phase called for the insertion of U.S. Army Special Forces Operational Detachment Alpha (ODA) teams, twelve-man squads trained to work alongside foreign fighters. Together with their special operations counterparts from the other branches—Navy SEALs and Air Force combat air controllers—these men would take on the toughest missions in Afghanistan. Once in country, the ODAs, or A-Teams, as they were called, would link up with friendly Afghan militia commanders.

During the Afghan campaign, I worked as closely with CIA Director George Tenet as I have with any government official. We had lunches most Fridays, during which we worked out any issues or challenges facing the Agency or the Pentagon. Tenet had a brash joviality that I enjoyed. It wasn't hard to work long hours alongside someone like Tenet, who had a way of lightening the mood.

Given the large scale of the planned operation, Tenet and I agreed that operational control of the joint Defense-CIA efforts would migrate over time from the CIA to Defense once our special operators were on the ground with the Afghan anti-Taliban militias. The CIA would have the lead initially, since its personnel would be in Afghanistan first. Command would shift to Franks and CENTCOM, as the campaign took on more of a military character. This was exactly the kind of flexible, cooperative arrangement that was needed. We didn't want to stifle improvisation in the field, but at the same time we could not afford to have confused lines of command.

A few in the CIA apparently objected to the agreement Tenet and I reached and portrayed it as a power grab.
¹¹
I understood the complaints from lower levels at the Agency. There had always been deep-seated anxieties at the CIA about the much larger Defense Department. Though I know Tenet did not feel this way, some at the CIA did not want to be seen as subordinate to the Department of Defense. Tenet and I were conscious of the challenge that all presidents have in getting the various agencies of the government to work jointly. But we both felt that close, visible personal cooperation between the two of us at the top could ease them and encourage a joint approach for those down the chain of command.

In addition to the teamwork of DoD and CIA operators in the field, a second key element of the war plan was the introduction of America's twenty-first-century technology to the relatively primitive operations of the Afghan militias. For years Northern Alliance commanders had managed to survive by building a modest arsenal of AK-47 automatic rifles, rocket-propelled grenades, a few rusty Soviet tanks, and some helicopters that could barely make it off the ground. Once embedded with the Northern Alliance, American special operations forces would upgrade their weaponry, provide supplies, and serve as on-the-ground air controllers to call in precision air strikes. The effort would combine the use of satellite communications, laser designators, GPS capability, and powerful precision munitions with friendly Afghan intelligence, language skills, cultural familiarity, and ground combat manpower.

CIA operatives scrambled to revive long-lapsed relationships with Northern Alliance commanders. This effort was complicated by the Agency's ties with the Pakistani government, which favored the ethnic Pashtuns in southern Afghanistan. In line with the views of the Pakistani government, CIA officials continued to caution President Bush against any military plan that relied heavily on the Northern Alliance.
¹²
I worried that the views of some intelligence officials seemed colored by Pakistan's interests, which were not necessarily identical to ours.

Powell, Armitage, and other State Department officials also expressed misgivings about the Northern Alliance. Without offering an alternative or explicitly disagreeing with our approach, Powell described the Northern Alliance militias as a “fourth world” fighting force, implying that it could not prevail against the Taliban and al-Qaida. Though I understood those concerns—the Northern Alliance, after all, had been unsuccessful over the preceding years—ultimately I disagreed with them. I believed that with our airpower and special operators, the Afghan opposition could drive the Taliban from power at significantly less risk to our men and women in uniform than a conventional invasion. Myers, Franks, and I concluded that we should continue to base our military strategy on cooperation with the Northern Alliance and opposition militias in the Pashtun south.

Help in developing our linkages with friendly Afghan forces came from an unlikely source. On September 26, I ran into California Congressman Dana Rohrabacher in the Pentagon parking lot. He had worked in President Reagan's White House and developed an interest in the mujahideen's efforts to rid Afghanistan of the Soviet occupiers in the 1980s. The congressman said that he and his staff were in contact by satellite phone with Northern Alliance commanders whom they had known in the 1980s. His contacts reported that Taliban morale was up, and that our allies in the Afghan opposition forces were discouraged by statements made by Bush administration officials that America's goal was not to remove the Taliban but instead to seek a compromise with it.
¹³
We were sending mixed signals to our enemies and to our friends.

 

I
n later years, critics would pose questions as to why we didn't immediately prepare to deploy 50,000, 100,000, or 150,000 American troops to Afghanistan. There were several reasons. If we were going to employ overwhelming force at the outset, we would have needed many months to build a large occupying army. This would have given the Taliban time to prepare for the conflict, and al-Qaida both the incentive and the opportunity to relocate. In addition, we would have risked additional terrorist attacks in the interim, and made it easier for our enemies to portray us as imperialist invaders and occupiers, like the Soviets and others before us. Finally, delay may have eroded popular support at home and abroad for the President's counterterrorism strategy. It is also the case that large numbers of American troops in Afghanistan could have limited our ability to act elsewhere in the world if necessary. We had to keep in mind that other contingencies could arise, particularly if a would-be aggressor believed the United States military was stretched thin. This was Myers', Franks', and my assessment—and ultimately President Bush's.

As such, the emerging war plan did not call for the kind of armored divisions and heavy artillery the Soviets had used in Afghanistan. Rather, it emphasized speed, flexibility, and precision. Air strikes and small helicopter-borne teams were arranged to execute quick responses to the changing circumstances on the ground. U.S. special operations forces would provide the technology necessary for our naval and air-strike aircraft to attack al-Qaida and the Taliban with unprecedented precision firepower.

The Army's Special Forces, the Navy's SEALs, and the Air Force's combat controllers had not been previously entrusted with the lead in such a major mission. The few hundred men who were ready to risk their lives in the service of their country by going after the Taliban and al-Qaida terrorists alongside the Northern Alliance forces were among the most highly trained, best equipped, and most experienced soldiers on the face of the earth. Some were fluent in the local languages and versed in the cultures they would be encountering. They had trained foreign militaries and understood how to get along with those who thought and fought differently. They were experts in the irregular guerrilla warfare that would be critical to success. They were trained in demolition, hand-to-hand combat, and mountain and desert warfare. American special operators would be the sharp tip of the spear in the first war of the twenty-first century.

The military services also found ways to adapt and contribute to our unconventional Afghan campaign. It took a creative, forward-leaning admiral to assist in a country three hundred miles from the nearest ocean. In Admiral Vern Clark, the chief of naval operations, the U.S. Navy had such a leader. Within hours after the 9/11 attack, submarines and Arleigh Burke–class destroyers armed with Tomahawk cruise missiles were speeding toward the Indian Ocean and the Arabian Sea. Clark ordered a refit of the 60,000-ton USS
Kitty Hawk
from a fleet aircraft carrier designed for launching jet aircraft into a “lily pad,” a seaborne platform for helicopters carrying special operators. The ship was in the northern Arabian Sea and in position to send the special operations teams into Afghanistan by early October.