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Protesters display signs in Waterfront Park before marching to mark the third anniversary of the war in Iraq March 19, 2006 in Portland, Oregon.
Because they were never decisively laid to rest by subsequent administrations, they formed the foundation for the excesses of the Trump administration’s foreign and domestic policies that we face today.
In response to the terrorist attacks of 9/11, the Bush administration rushed to implement domestic and foreign policies that had dramatic consequences for the US and the world.
They pushed through far-reaching legislation which, when combined with Executive Orders and “national security” memoranda, effectively gutted one-half of the rights guaranteed in the Bill of Rights and erased 50 years of work advancing civil rights and liberties here in the US. In addition, the steps they took to justify the invasions, occupations, and nation-building gambits in Afghanistan and Iraq contributed to degrading the roles of the United Nations and NATO and contributed to dismantling the architectures of diplomacy, rights, and law that had been created by the international community in the aftermath of World War II.
The assault on rights and freedoms had been brewing before 9/11. Beginning in the Reagan era and continuing through the Clinton administration, there’d been “secret” plans to round up, detain, or deport “aliens” without due process. Because of domestic opposition, earlier administrations had been hesitant to publicly implement them. But with the nation reeling in shock in the aftermath of the terror attacks, it became possible for the Bush administration to openly give law enforcement agencies a grab bag of repressive tools they had been seeking. They did so knowing that domestic or partisan opposition would be muted because 9/11 had taken such a traumatic toll. In the end, the Bush-endorsed legislation was easily passed in Congress, with only one senator voting against the bill. And there was only modest opposition to the administration’s measures to use racial and ethnic profiling, deny due process to immigrants, conduct warrantless searches and surveillance, make use of entrapment techniques against vulnerable individuals, and implement a range of costly and invasive measures at airports—all of which have been shown to be wholly ineffective in protecting national security.
If the shock of the attacks had made the public more willing to accept new laws and programs that sacrificed the rights of others, they also created a sense of dread about what might happen next. America had invaded, bombed, and fought wars in other countries around the world, but not since Pearl Harbor, more than a six decades earlier, had the American homeland been attacked. This resulted in feelings of vulnerability. People wanted to know: “Who are these people who committed these crimes?” “Why did they do this to us?” and “What should we do now to respond?”
As a result of the US unilaterally steamrolling its way into the war, insulting allies who refused to join them, and faring so poorly in its execution of both conflicts, respect for the US plummeted worldwide.
It was a short time after the attacks that I accepted an invitation from the Council on Foreign Relations to participate in a post-9/11 study group to discuss these troubling questions and offer recommendations to policymakers, specifically regarding what America’s message to the world should be in this moment. The group they assembled was mixed and bipartisan, including former lawmakers and diplomats, military and government officials, and Middle East “experts.” In the months that followed, we met several times, seated around a conference table in center city Washington DC.
While many of us had questions and concerns, it was striking that a core group of participants came with an obvious agenda. The dust hadn’t yet settled, nor had the embers cooled at the site of the burning towers, but a cohort of the “study group” already had answers. America, they argued, had been attacked because it was perceived as complacent and weak. The terrorists saw that weakness and took advantage of it. The solution, they posited, was for America to demonstrate strength by dealing with a devastating blow so that our enemies would know better than to strike at us again. They had already settled on their preferred target: Iraq. Saddam Hussein was a ruthless leader who’d committed crimes against his own people and his neighbors—and so he was deemed a worthy and non-controversial foe.
Interestingly, at this very early point, the “pro-war hawks” had not yet fabricated their later justifications for the war they so desperately sought. There was no case being made that Saddam sponsored al Qaeda, or that he had weapons of mass destruction. This was to come later. In the beginning, the only justification they advanced was that America needed a dramatic display of strength to put fear into the hearts of those who might be inclined to attack again.
The group who advanced these views in the study group was part of a much larger ideological movement of “neoconservatives” who were growing in influence in Republican circles. They were ideologues whose belief system had more in common with Christian fundamentalism than with traditional Republican thinking. They saw a worldwide cosmic struggle between good and evil. America, of course, was the force for good. The evil had been the Soviet Union but had now been replaced with Arab or Islamic extremism. It was imperative that the forces for good be relentless in its never-ending struggle against evil—to root it out and crush it. No compromise was possible.
While then-President George W. Bush did not initially share their world view, the shock of 9/11 catapulted the neoconservatives into a dominant force shaping his administration’s policies. In the months and years that followed, the Bush administration made decisions reflecting their influence. The repressive legislation and anti-Arab, anti-Muslim programs were part of this, as were the wars and occupations of Afghanistan and Iraq.
The costs and consequences of these two ill-conceived wars have been immense in lost lives, treasure, and respect. In addition to the hundreds of thousands of Iraqis and Afghanis who perished, 7,000 US military personnel died. While the Bush Pentagon tried to sell the war to Congress by saying it would cost just a few billion dollars, it is now estimated to have cost between $6 and 7 trillion. And as a result of the US unilaterally steamrolling its way into the war, insulting allies who refused to join them, and faring so poorly in its execution of both conflicts, respect for the US plummeted worldwide.
These post-9/11 policies inflicted tremendous damage during the Bush years, but their consequences are still with us. Because they were never decisively laid to rest by subsequent administrations, they formed the foundation for the excesses of the Trump administration’s foreign and domestic policies that we face today.
Dear Common Dreams reader, It’s been nearly 30 years since I co-founded Common Dreams with my late wife, Lina Newhouser. We had the radical notion that journalism should serve the public good, not corporate profits. It was clear to us from the outset what it would take to build such a project. No paid advertisements. No corporate sponsors. No millionaire publisher telling us what to think or do. Many people said we wouldn't last a year, but we proved those doubters wrong. Together with a tremendous team of journalists and dedicated staff, we built an independent media outlet free from the constraints of profits and corporate control. Our mission has always been simple: To inform. To inspire. To ignite change for the common good. Building Common Dreams was not easy. Our survival was never guaranteed. When you take on the most powerful forces—Wall Street greed, fossil fuel industry destruction, Big Tech lobbyists, and uber-rich oligarchs who have spent billions upon billions rigging the economy and democracy in their favor—the only bulwark you have is supporters who believe in your work. But here’s the urgent message from me today. It's never been this bad out there. And it's never been this hard to keep us going. At the very moment Common Dreams is most needed, the threats we face are intensifying. We need your support now more than ever. We don't accept corporate advertising and never will. We don't have a paywall because we don't think people should be blocked from critical news based on their ability to pay. Everything we do is funded by the donations of readers like you. When everyone does the little they can afford, we are strong. But if that support retreats or dries up, so do we. Will you donate now to make sure Common Dreams not only survives but thrives? —Craig Brown, Co-founder |
In response to the terrorist attacks of 9/11, the Bush administration rushed to implement domestic and foreign policies that had dramatic consequences for the US and the world.
They pushed through far-reaching legislation which, when combined with Executive Orders and “national security” memoranda, effectively gutted one-half of the rights guaranteed in the Bill of Rights and erased 50 years of work advancing civil rights and liberties here in the US. In addition, the steps they took to justify the invasions, occupations, and nation-building gambits in Afghanistan and Iraq contributed to degrading the roles of the United Nations and NATO and contributed to dismantling the architectures of diplomacy, rights, and law that had been created by the international community in the aftermath of World War II.
The assault on rights and freedoms had been brewing before 9/11. Beginning in the Reagan era and continuing through the Clinton administration, there’d been “secret” plans to round up, detain, or deport “aliens” without due process. Because of domestic opposition, earlier administrations had been hesitant to publicly implement them. But with the nation reeling in shock in the aftermath of the terror attacks, it became possible for the Bush administration to openly give law enforcement agencies a grab bag of repressive tools they had been seeking. They did so knowing that domestic or partisan opposition would be muted because 9/11 had taken such a traumatic toll. In the end, the Bush-endorsed legislation was easily passed in Congress, with only one senator voting against the bill. And there was only modest opposition to the administration’s measures to use racial and ethnic profiling, deny due process to immigrants, conduct warrantless searches and surveillance, make use of entrapment techniques against vulnerable individuals, and implement a range of costly and invasive measures at airports—all of which have been shown to be wholly ineffective in protecting national security.
If the shock of the attacks had made the public more willing to accept new laws and programs that sacrificed the rights of others, they also created a sense of dread about what might happen next. America had invaded, bombed, and fought wars in other countries around the world, but not since Pearl Harbor, more than a six decades earlier, had the American homeland been attacked. This resulted in feelings of vulnerability. People wanted to know: “Who are these people who committed these crimes?” “Why did they do this to us?” and “What should we do now to respond?”
As a result of the US unilaterally steamrolling its way into the war, insulting allies who refused to join them, and faring so poorly in its execution of both conflicts, respect for the US plummeted worldwide.
It was a short time after the attacks that I accepted an invitation from the Council on Foreign Relations to participate in a post-9/11 study group to discuss these troubling questions and offer recommendations to policymakers, specifically regarding what America’s message to the world should be in this moment. The group they assembled was mixed and bipartisan, including former lawmakers and diplomats, military and government officials, and Middle East “experts.” In the months that followed, we met several times, seated around a conference table in center city Washington DC.
While many of us had questions and concerns, it was striking that a core group of participants came with an obvious agenda. The dust hadn’t yet settled, nor had the embers cooled at the site of the burning towers, but a cohort of the “study group” already had answers. America, they argued, had been attacked because it was perceived as complacent and weak. The terrorists saw that weakness and took advantage of it. The solution, they posited, was for America to demonstrate strength by dealing with a devastating blow so that our enemies would know better than to strike at us again. They had already settled on their preferred target: Iraq. Saddam Hussein was a ruthless leader who’d committed crimes against his own people and his neighbors—and so he was deemed a worthy and non-controversial foe.
Interestingly, at this very early point, the “pro-war hawks” had not yet fabricated their later justifications for the war they so desperately sought. There was no case being made that Saddam sponsored al Qaeda, or that he had weapons of mass destruction. This was to come later. In the beginning, the only justification they advanced was that America needed a dramatic display of strength to put fear into the hearts of those who might be inclined to attack again.
The group who advanced these views in the study group was part of a much larger ideological movement of “neoconservatives” who were growing in influence in Republican circles. They were ideologues whose belief system had more in common with Christian fundamentalism than with traditional Republican thinking. They saw a worldwide cosmic struggle between good and evil. America, of course, was the force for good. The evil had been the Soviet Union but had now been replaced with Arab or Islamic extremism. It was imperative that the forces for good be relentless in its never-ending struggle against evil—to root it out and crush it. No compromise was possible.
While then-President George W. Bush did not initially share their world view, the shock of 9/11 catapulted the neoconservatives into a dominant force shaping his administration’s policies. In the months and years that followed, the Bush administration made decisions reflecting their influence. The repressive legislation and anti-Arab, anti-Muslim programs were part of this, as were the wars and occupations of Afghanistan and Iraq.
The costs and consequences of these two ill-conceived wars have been immense in lost lives, treasure, and respect. In addition to the hundreds of thousands of Iraqis and Afghanis who perished, 7,000 US military personnel died. While the Bush Pentagon tried to sell the war to Congress by saying it would cost just a few billion dollars, it is now estimated to have cost between $6 and 7 trillion. And as a result of the US unilaterally steamrolling its way into the war, insulting allies who refused to join them, and faring so poorly in its execution of both conflicts, respect for the US plummeted worldwide.
These post-9/11 policies inflicted tremendous damage during the Bush years, but their consequences are still with us. Because they were never decisively laid to rest by subsequent administrations, they formed the foundation for the excesses of the Trump administration’s foreign and domestic policies that we face today.
In response to the terrorist attacks of 9/11, the Bush administration rushed to implement domestic and foreign policies that had dramatic consequences for the US and the world.
They pushed through far-reaching legislation which, when combined with Executive Orders and “national security” memoranda, effectively gutted one-half of the rights guaranteed in the Bill of Rights and erased 50 years of work advancing civil rights and liberties here in the US. In addition, the steps they took to justify the invasions, occupations, and nation-building gambits in Afghanistan and Iraq contributed to degrading the roles of the United Nations and NATO and contributed to dismantling the architectures of diplomacy, rights, and law that had been created by the international community in the aftermath of World War II.
The assault on rights and freedoms had been brewing before 9/11. Beginning in the Reagan era and continuing through the Clinton administration, there’d been “secret” plans to round up, detain, or deport “aliens” without due process. Because of domestic opposition, earlier administrations had been hesitant to publicly implement them. But with the nation reeling in shock in the aftermath of the terror attacks, it became possible for the Bush administration to openly give law enforcement agencies a grab bag of repressive tools they had been seeking. They did so knowing that domestic or partisan opposition would be muted because 9/11 had taken such a traumatic toll. In the end, the Bush-endorsed legislation was easily passed in Congress, with only one senator voting against the bill. And there was only modest opposition to the administration’s measures to use racial and ethnic profiling, deny due process to immigrants, conduct warrantless searches and surveillance, make use of entrapment techniques against vulnerable individuals, and implement a range of costly and invasive measures at airports—all of which have been shown to be wholly ineffective in protecting national security.
If the shock of the attacks had made the public more willing to accept new laws and programs that sacrificed the rights of others, they also created a sense of dread about what might happen next. America had invaded, bombed, and fought wars in other countries around the world, but not since Pearl Harbor, more than a six decades earlier, had the American homeland been attacked. This resulted in feelings of vulnerability. People wanted to know: “Who are these people who committed these crimes?” “Why did they do this to us?” and “What should we do now to respond?”
As a result of the US unilaterally steamrolling its way into the war, insulting allies who refused to join them, and faring so poorly in its execution of both conflicts, respect for the US plummeted worldwide.
It was a short time after the attacks that I accepted an invitation from the Council on Foreign Relations to participate in a post-9/11 study group to discuss these troubling questions and offer recommendations to policymakers, specifically regarding what America’s message to the world should be in this moment. The group they assembled was mixed and bipartisan, including former lawmakers and diplomats, military and government officials, and Middle East “experts.” In the months that followed, we met several times, seated around a conference table in center city Washington DC.
While many of us had questions and concerns, it was striking that a core group of participants came with an obvious agenda. The dust hadn’t yet settled, nor had the embers cooled at the site of the burning towers, but a cohort of the “study group” already had answers. America, they argued, had been attacked because it was perceived as complacent and weak. The terrorists saw that weakness and took advantage of it. The solution, they posited, was for America to demonstrate strength by dealing with a devastating blow so that our enemies would know better than to strike at us again. They had already settled on their preferred target: Iraq. Saddam Hussein was a ruthless leader who’d committed crimes against his own people and his neighbors—and so he was deemed a worthy and non-controversial foe.
Interestingly, at this very early point, the “pro-war hawks” had not yet fabricated their later justifications for the war they so desperately sought. There was no case being made that Saddam sponsored al Qaeda, or that he had weapons of mass destruction. This was to come later. In the beginning, the only justification they advanced was that America needed a dramatic display of strength to put fear into the hearts of those who might be inclined to attack again.
The group who advanced these views in the study group was part of a much larger ideological movement of “neoconservatives” who were growing in influence in Republican circles. They were ideologues whose belief system had more in common with Christian fundamentalism than with traditional Republican thinking. They saw a worldwide cosmic struggle between good and evil. America, of course, was the force for good. The evil had been the Soviet Union but had now been replaced with Arab or Islamic extremism. It was imperative that the forces for good be relentless in its never-ending struggle against evil—to root it out and crush it. No compromise was possible.
While then-President George W. Bush did not initially share their world view, the shock of 9/11 catapulted the neoconservatives into a dominant force shaping his administration’s policies. In the months and years that followed, the Bush administration made decisions reflecting their influence. The repressive legislation and anti-Arab, anti-Muslim programs were part of this, as were the wars and occupations of Afghanistan and Iraq.
The costs and consequences of these two ill-conceived wars have been immense in lost lives, treasure, and respect. In addition to the hundreds of thousands of Iraqis and Afghanis who perished, 7,000 US military personnel died. While the Bush Pentagon tried to sell the war to Congress by saying it would cost just a few billion dollars, it is now estimated to have cost between $6 and 7 trillion. And as a result of the US unilaterally steamrolling its way into the war, insulting allies who refused to join them, and faring so poorly in its execution of both conflicts, respect for the US plummeted worldwide.
These post-9/11 policies inflicted tremendous damage during the Bush years, but their consequences are still with us. Because they were never decisively laid to rest by subsequent administrations, they formed the foundation for the excesses of the Trump administration’s foreign and domestic policies that we face today.