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William D. Hartung and Ben Freeman's extremely timely and necessary book explains how today's crises are the predictable consequence of an entrenched system of militarism, a politics captured by lobbies, and elite self-dealing.
At this very second, Washington is pouring billions into escalations toward a potential invasion of Venezuela that would set Latin America on fire, escalate tensions with neighbors, and trap US troops in another undefined quagmire. It has already conducted about a dozen strikes on unproven “drug boats” in the Caribbean, without congressional approval, a trial, or even demonstrated intelligence, killing innumerable Venezuelan and foreign civilians, while it has moved Naval strike groups and carriers near Venezuela’s shores. This is one of the disastrous and preventable results of American militarism, exceptionalism, and the military-industrial complex that fuels them.
Such is the context in which The Trillion Dollar War Machine lands on bookshelves. William D. Hartung and Ben Freeman's extremely timely and necessary book explains how these crises are not a series of isolated events, but the predictable consequence of an entrenched system of militarism, a politics captured by lobbies, and elite self-dealing that traces its lineage back to President Dwight D. Eisenhower’s 1961 warning about the military-industrial complex.
Their diagnosis offers a map of the structural forces that continuously push America toward war, even when the public wants peace and even when national security (and economics) is the pretext rather than the driver. America engineers itself into these wars for elite interests.
As Hartung and Freeman detail, more than half of the Pentagon budget now goes to private contractors. These corporations, especially the “Big Five” of Lockheed Martin, RTX (formerly Raytheon), Boeing, General Dynamics, and Northrop Grumman, have together absorbed more than $2.1 trillion in Pentagon contracts in the post-9/11 era. The book opens by reminding us that $8 trillion were wasted by the war machine on the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.
The end of the world and MAD could be ushered in because Lockheed Martin and Congress can’t stop obsessing over their stocks and profits.
That sum alone could have fully decarbonized the US electrical grid; paid off every student loan in the country; and still had trillions left for climate resilience, healthcare, and democratic infrastructure. Even just maintaining the system as it is costs billions—America’s 750 military bases in 80 countries cost $55 billion a year to maintain. A lot of them, like in Guam, have also destroyed the environment, caused irreparable health effects, and stalled the local economy and democracy.
When Jamal Khashoggi was murdered, and Congress briefly considered blocking US weapons transfers to Saudi Arabia, lobbyists went to work behind the scenes to “derail the initiative.” In the same week they lobbied lawmakers, they donated to the same lawmakers’ campaigns. Everything about that should look like bribery. But because the military-industrial complex is woven into the legal, regulatory, and cultural DNA of Washington, it is perfectly legal. In fact, it’s just a regular Tuesday. This is the machinery that powers nearly every war the United States engages in.
Hartung and Freeman document how 945 lobbyists work directly for Pentagon contractors; how dozens of them are simultaneously registered as foreign agents; and how former members of Congress, Pentagon staffers, and even chiefs of staff for the nation’s most powerful leaders pass seamlessly through the revolving door to sell weapons to Egypt, Saudi Arabia, Qatar, and other authoritarian regimes. American foreign policy is shaped in lobbying offices, overpriced dinners, and backdoor negotiations with firms that openly expect “business benefits” from new wars. The consequences of this model are catastrophic for human life.
The book recounts how US weapons have fueled atrocities in Yemen, the Philippines, Nigeria, Egypt, and now Gaza, where the authors confirm what most of us progressives already knew; that most of the people killed “have nothing to do with Hamas.” They cite updated reporting that the Biden administration concluded more than 100 separate arms transfers to Israel in the first months of the war, without even informing Congress.
More than half of the conflicts on Earth involve US weapons on at least one side. The United States continues to arm regimes that Freedom House classifies as “not free,” even when those regimes commit torture, disappearances, mass detentions, and extrajudicial murders. Even this week, there has been reporting into Egypt’s continued use of torture and crimes against humanity in its “counterterrorism” efforts, with US weapons and taxpayer money. Wherever there is repression, inequality, or mass death, US weapons are often close by. The results do not make the US, or the world, safer, freer, or more prosperous; in fact, they do quite the opposite.
Hartung and Freeman trace how an arms industry that began as an adjunct to US defense has transformed into a permanent, profit-seeking entity that requires conflict to justify its existence. They revisit the “last supper” of the 1990s, when defense mergers consolidated the industry into a small cluster of giants, and the Pentagon volunteered billions in taxpayer dollars to subsidize those mergers, even giving executives multimillion-dollar “golden parachutes,” funded by tax money.
They revisit how the highly dangerous nuclear triad was shaped not by strategy but by “turf wars” between the Air Force and Navy, each desperate to preserve its slice of the budget. That’s right, the end of the world and MAD could be ushered in because Lockheed Martin and Congress can’t stop obsessing over their stocks and profits. Hartung and Freeman also revisit the disastrous Littoral Combat Ship program, the “Little Crappy Ship,” which was pushed through political pressure even after the Navy warned it was unfit for combat. M1 Abrams tanks were also sold to Ukraine, after being pushed by think tanks funded by defense contractors, even as the tanks resulted in catastrophic casualties for Ukrainian fighters. In every case, the logic is identical. Weapons are built because there is profit in building them, not because there is security in possessing them. Don’t fall for the tired arguments about “job creation” and “American manufacturing,” either; Hartung and Freeman show other, non-military economic sectors are much better at creating jobs, for cheaper. Most MIC jobs aren’t even unionized.
One of the book’s most disturbing contributions is its detailed exploration of how the war machine’s surplus equipment, tactics, and political culture flowed into policing. The authors describe a country where protesting can be met with military-grade rifles, armored vehicles, acoustic weapons, and tear gas developed for counterinsurgency. They note that more than 6,500 police departments have received $7 billion worth of Pentagon equipment through the 1033 Program. They argue that “it’s not the police, it’s a paramilitary force.” It’s simply the domestic mirror of the foreign policy problem (also called the Imperial Boomerang). Now, American communities live under the terror and oppression that much of the world has suffered through, in Washington’s own wars.
The authors argue for a “new peace network,” a coalition of movements that understand militarism as a unifying force behind poverty, racial injustice, surveillance, climate destruction, and authoritarianism.
The authors also underline the economic argument for dismantling the war machine. Military spending has become one of the least efficient job creators in the entire US economy. Investments in healthcare, education, climate resilience, and clean energy create far more jobs than investments in defense. Pentagon contractors, they show, are shedding union jobs at historic rates. Corporations like Lockheed Martin spend billions on stock buybacks rather than innovation. Automation will soon cut even more jobs. The economic bargain that once tied militarism to employment is dissolving. The authors argue that a just transition away from militarism is not just possible. It is necessary.
The authors also expose how deeply media culture is implicated in sustaining this system. Hartung and Freeman recount how Hollywood rewrites scripts at the Pentagon’s request in exchange for access to hardware. How think tanks funded by weapons manufacturers produce reports that conveniently recommend more weapons purchases. How television networks turn war planners into celebrities, how the Iraq War was sold through manufactured narratives, and how even major news organizations were swept up in the 9/11 wave of militarism. They highlight the “artificial consensus” that emerges when the same small circle of MIC-funded think tanks supply the experts for congressional hearings, television panels, and academic publications. This is why dissent is always framed as fringe, because it goes against an entire manufactured apparatus of propaganda and warfare, funded by taxpayer money and corporations.
The book is chock-full of these stories, each more infuriating than the other, but compiled in a way that could drive someone numb. However, do not despair; the authors, as they should, propose a successful path forward.
Every chapter offers a form of resistance, however small. They emphasize the importance of organizations like the Project on Government Oversight (or POGO), which, though it started out mostly getting attention from conspiracists and sci-fi enthusiasts, has defended whistleblowers and exposed fraud. They highlight reporting from independent outlets like ProPublica and FAIR that refuse to act as stenographers for the war machine, and progressive fighters in Congress like Sen. Elizabeth Warren (D-Mass.), Sen. Bernie Sanders (I-Vt.), and Rep. Ro Khanna (D-Calif.), who have pushed back from the inside.
They recount moments when insiders resisted corruption, when whistleblowers forced accountability, and when activists successfully shut down harmful programs. Public opinion overwhelmingly opposes new nuclear weapons, endless wars, and blank-check aid to repressive allies. The machine can be broken, but it takes an “all-hands-on-deck approach,” as the authors hammer home.
The book’s most hopeful chapter focuses on the much-needed peace movement. The authors argue for a “new peace network,” a coalition of movements that understand militarism as a unifying force behind poverty, racial injustice, surveillance, climate destruction, and authoritarianism. They highlight the Poor People’s Campaign, built on Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s vision, which brings veterans, workers, and marginalized communities into a shared struggle against economic exploitation and war. They emphasize that any new peace movement must bridge ideological divides, drawing support from libertarians, populists, progressives, veterans, and communities directly harmed by war and militarization. They warn against grifters and extremists who exploit anti-war sentiment to push bigotry or authoritarian agendas (one could maybe think of examples, like Tucker Carlson, Matt Walsh, Nick Fuentes, or even Donald Trump). They insist that a principled peace movement must be rooted in solidarity, democracy, and human dignity.
This is where Hartung and Freeman’s credibility matters. Both authors have spent years inside Washington, fighting the very system they describe. Freeman’s landmark investigations at the Project on Government Oversight reshaped our understanding of foreign influence, and his current work at the Quincy Institute, including with the Think Tank Funding Tracker, continues to expose the financial pipelines between authoritarian regimes and corporations, and US policymaking.
Their blueprint also includes campaign finance reform to sever the link between money and militarism. It includes transparency laws to expose think-tank conflicts of interest, robust whistleblower protections for insiders willing to confront corruption, new priorities for federal spending that center human needs rather than endless war, and, most importantly, reimagining foreign policy around genuine defense rather than global weapons distribution. They, for instance, point to arming Ukraine against Russia’s imperialistic invasion as a noble cause (with caveats of course, which they get into), but warn against arming Israel, whose wars in the Middle East are not defensive. But this can’t happen without people pushing relentlessly.
The book ends with a warning and a call to action. The war machine is everywhere. It exists in budgets; in lobby shops; in universities; in movies; in police departments; in political campaigns; at sports games; and in the language we use to talk about our politics, society, culture, and life. But monsters can be tamed. They can be disrupted, defunded, delegitimized, and replaced.
We must get informed (first by reading this book!), pressure our representatives, support whistleblowers, follow and strengthen genuine independent media, create and join movements fighting militarism, and refuse to accept that endless war is the price of life, freedom, and citizenship. We all have agency, power, and responsibility to stop the war machine. Time to organize.
In a world of strongmen, a voice for peace and a beacon of hope shines through.
On November 11 2025, independent Member of Parliament Catherine Connolly will become the new president of Ireland after winning an overwhelming victory over the fiercely unpopular Heather Humphreys.
In her acceptance speech, President Connolly vowed to remain rooted in service, stay humble, and actively practice neutrality. She is anti-war, anti-imperialist, pro-reunification, an advocate for disability rights, and fluent in Irish. She has also been openly critical of the European Union's inaction on Gaza, and is distrustful of France and the United Kingdom due to their massive armament programs.
In her words, Connolly strives to be "a moral compass in a world increasingly driven by profit and spectacle. A voice for those too often silenced."
As a former barrister, from a humble background, Connolly has spent her years volunteering with the elderly and taking night classes to train in law. She formally entered politics in 1999 with the mission of tackling Ireland's dire housing shortage crisis.
After serving 17 years as a councillor in Galway for the Labour Party, she left, citing a lack of support, and began her journey as an independent. In 2020, she became the first woman elected to chair debates as deputy speaker in the Dáil Éireann.
Rather than pandering to corporate interests, the wealthy elite, or a personal ego trip bent on abusing power (naming no names), Connolly offers a hopeful vision for a more compassionate and responsible approach to politics.
Connolly's victory marked an important moment for independent candidates around the world. As the world slides to the right, her humble message of peace, inclusivity, and democracy is a powerful reminder that there is light. We must continue to draw attention to and support those who stand up against the establishment.
Connolly has shown that it is possible for well-deserving underdogs such as Zohran Mamdani, Jeremy Corbyn, Zack Polanski, and Bernie Sanders to bring common-good policies into the mainstream.
In a demonstration of her ability to unify opposing voices, Connolly's landslide win came after she secured the support of opposition parties Sinn Féin, the Social Democrats, People Before Profit, and even her former party, Labour.
As an independent, Connolly pledged, in her opening speech, to be a '"president for all." Her victory was secured after gaining the largest number of first-preference votes ever—the equivalent of 63%.
When we look at the bigger picture, however, it tells the story of a divided, disillusioned, and apathetic Ireland tired of the two-party system. Voter turnout was just 45.8%, and a huge 213,738 votes were either invalid or spoiled. This accounted for almost 13% of the overall vote, notably, more than 10 times the number in the last presidential election.
In the run-up to the election, violent riots broke out in the capital for two consecutive days. They took place in front of a hotel housing asylum seekers in an anti-immigration sentiment being witnessed across large parts of Europe. This is just one example of the ongoing immigration tensions in Ireland.
Irish citizens are frustrated with the government after years of austerity measures, the ongoing housing crisis, poor public services such as healthcare, and the fact that key candidates, such as Maria Steen, were not on the ballot.
With Connolly's left-wing, progressive, and anti-war stance at the reins, the world eagerly awaits to see if Ireland can be the guiding light that so many nations need right now. In the face of fascist, authoritarian leaders such as Donald Trump, Viktor Orbán, Xi Jinping, Vladimir Putin, Benjamin Netanyahu, and Nicolás Maduro, we desperately need a new playbook.
Some of Connolly's stances include:
With her pledge to be accountable to the citizens of Ireland, her policies are people-and-planet focused. Her commitment to justice, equality, and transparency is a refreshing change from the status quo. Rather than pandering to corporate interests, the wealthy elite, or a personal ego trip bent on abusing power (naming no names), Connolly offers a hopeful vision for a more compassionate and responsible approach to politics.
Let's hope that her recent win bolsters the campaigns of other progressive candidates and serves as a reminder that positive change is possible. This is a huge win for the left; let's keep the momentum going.
In the words of Catherine Connolly: "Use your voice in every way you can, because a republic and a democracy need constructive questioning, and together we can shape a new republic that values everybody."
Isn’t it finally time for a respectful national dialogue about what constitutes an adequate defense and how to balance military preparations with other urgent national needs?
Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth, the former “Fox and Friends” cohost, claims to be obsessed with making the Pentagon and the military services about “the warfighter.” His main approach to doing so is a deeply misguided campaign to reduce “distractions” like commitments to diversity, equity, and inclusion (the dreaded “DEI”). No matter that the purpose of DEI is to combat White supremacist attitudes, misogyny, and anti-gay and anti-trans violence in the ranks.
All such forms of discrimination are, in fact, already present in the US military, and the way to build a cohesive defense force is certainly not by allowing them to run wild and be seen as acceptable or “normal” behavior. The best way to build a stronger, more unified military would, of course, be to make people feel welcome regardless of gender, race, ethnicity, or gender identification. That would, in fact, be the only way to build a military that reflects the nation it’s charged with defending. DEI, after all, is not an irritating slogan. It’s an attempt to right historic wrongs in the service of a more effective military and a more unified populace. And it’s one thing to suggest that current approaches could be made more effective, but quite another to demonize them in the name of forging “better” warfighters.
In short, the Hegseth method is bound to prove destructive. Count on this, in fact: It will only weaken our military, not strengthen it. The result, if Hegseth’s efforts succeed, will indeed be a whiter, more aggressive armed forces, and quite likely one significantly more loyal to the current occupant of the Oval Office than to the Constitution.
Thankfully, Hegseth’s vision is not shared by many of the veterans of America’s disastrous post-9-11 wars in Afghanistan, Iraq, and elsewhere. The eye-opening documentary What I Want You to Know presents the views of just such veterans about their service and about the meaning of the conflicts they fought in. Almost to a person (no, not “a man”!), they said the following four things:
It took courage for such veterans to go on camera and offer the unvarnished truth about the disastrous wars they helped to fight. They are, of course, far from alone, but as one of the producers of the film told me, many veterans are reluctant to discuss such feelings and insights publicly. Some don’t want to reflect on the idea that the wars they fought in were disastrously misguided and didn’t end in anything resembling an American victory. Others fear political retribution. Still others prefer to keep such conversations among their fellow vets, in large part because they feel that people who haven’t served can’t fully understand what they went through.
It’s little wonder that many vets keep their feelings about their long years in service within a close circle of friends and other veterans. But whether they choose to speak out publicly or not, a striking number of them are now either anti-war or “war skeptical,” questioning whether some of our recent conflicts were faintly worth fighting in the first place.
Don’t misunderstand me on this. There are indeed veterans speaking out against such unnecessary, unjust wars (past or future). Fifteen of them, for instance, contributed chapters to Paths of Dissent, a volume edited by Quincy Institute co-founder Andrew Bacevich and US Army veteran Daniel Sjursen. A description of a 2023 webinar marking the release of the book caught its main theme perfectly:
[T]hese soldiers vividly describe both their motivations for serving and the disillusionment that made them speak out against the system. Their testimony is crucial for understanding just how the world’s self-proclaimed greatest military power went so badly astray.
There are also entire organizations, including Veterans for Peace (VFP), Common Defense, and About Face: Veterans Against the War, devoted to ensuring that such endless wars remain over and crafting an American foreign policy grounded in diplomacy and defense rather than in a quest for global military dominance. (And, of course, they are distinctly not dedicated, like US President Donald J. Trump, to ever more regularly blowing boats out of the water in the Caribbean.)
Common Defense, in fact, goes beyond an anti-war stance to address the underlying ills that make such wars so much more likely. Its members describe themselves this way:
We are the largest grassroots membership organization of progressive veterans standing up for our communities against the rising tide of racism, hate, and violence. We vow to organize together against those who seek to divide us so they cannot rig our systems and economy for their own gain.
As for VFP, one of its members, Chris Overfelt, offered a succinct summary of the group’s stance in a 2019 House Budget Committee hearing organized by the Poor People’s Campaign: A Call for Moral Revival. He noted that he had “indirectly participated in the destruction of… Iraq and Afghanistan.” He then reflected on the consequences of those all-American wars, adding, “Neither of these countries will likely recover from that devastation in my lifetime. Nothing I can do… will make up for the hundreds of thousands of Iraqi and Afghan men, women, and children killed in these useless wars.”
About Face’s current campaign, “Keep the Military Off Our Streets,” reaches out to the 35,000 or more National Guard and military personnel that President Trump has already deployed to US cities and the Mexican border area, offering assistance in “exploring your options.” As that outfit puts it, “If you are a National Guardsperson or active-duty member and you’re concerned about the moral, ethical, or legal implications of your situation, you’re not alone.”
Nor is opposition to such fruitless, devastating conflicts limited to progressives. Trump himself used his 2016 election campaign to hammer Jeb Bush and Hillary Clinton for supporting the disastrous 2003 US intervention in Iraq. And then there were statements like the one that he made at a September 2024 campaign stop in Mosinee, Wisconsin, in which he said, “I will expel the warmonger from our national security state and carry out a much needed cleanup of the military-industrial complex to stop the war profiteering and to put always America First.”
The president has, of course, not faintly fulfilled that pledge, but he said it for a reason—to appeal to those in his base who are sick of war and no longer trust corporations or traditional politicians to rein in the war machine.
One of the most interesting political collaborations of the past few years was when the conservative group Concerned Veterans for America (CVA) teamed up with VoteVets, which describes itself as “a home for progressive veterans and their supporters.” The two groups worked together to repeal the authorization of military force, or AUMF, passed by Congress after the 9-11 attacks, a document that has been used ever since as a public rationale for numerous wars all over the globe. Dan Caldwell, the head of CVA at the time, explained how the two groups had come to work together in an interview on C-SPAN that included Will Fischer, then the director of government relations for VoteVets:
I honestly did go into the interview expecting a combative conversation… but when we started talking about foreign policy, it was clear there were some areas of alignment especially on war powers. The wheels started turning in my head, and we came together and decided to pursue some of these shared goals.
Perhaps most important right now, Major General Paul Eaton, who (among his many other assignments) served as commanding general in charge of reestablishing the Iraqi Security Forces in 2003-2004, has joined with other veterans to roundly criticize Trump’s deployment of troops to US cities. As he put it: “This [deployment of troops to US cities] is the politicization of the armed forces. It casts the military in a terrible light.”
Of course, there are also what might be thought of as warriors for war in this country, veterans who believe the US isn’t spending enough on its military or relying on force (or the threat of force) often enough. For example, Sen. Tom Cotton (R-Ala.), a prominent voice on national security in the Republican Party, is all in on pushing for yet more Pentagon spending, the development of ever more and different kinds of nuclear weapons, and a quicker trigger for using force (including a possible war with Iran). Then there’s General Mike Minihan who, in January 2023, wrote a memo predicting that the US would be at war with China within two years. That was hardly an official US position. He was, in fact, publicly contradicting the stance of his commander-in-chief, and yet he was never held accountable for that rogue statement of his.
Many liberals and progressives feel that the only way to generate sustained public pressure against overspending on the Pentagon budget (now heading for the trillion-dollar mark) is to get military validators, ideally high-ranking officers, to weigh in. This was possible in the past, as in the Vietnam War years, when Admirals Gene Larocque and Eugene Carroll founded the Center for Defense Information, an indispensable resource for opponents of massive Pentagon budgets and misguided wars.
It’s important to remember, however, that the use of military validators can go terribly wrong. This was certainly the case in 1983 when President George W. Bush sent General Colin Powell, whose approval rating was then 20 points higher than his, to the United Nations in February 2003 to make a case for Iraq’s alleged (but, in fact, nonexistent) arsenal of nuclear weapons, a month before the US invaded that country. It was certainly good theater, but many of his points would prove to be sheer fantasy.
Although mid-level officers and those below them in the ranks are the likely backbone of a growing movement for peace and racial, gender, and economic justice, they simply can’t do it alone.
There were also prominent retired generals like Lee Butler and James Cartwright who called for sharp reductions in, or the total elimination of, all nuclear weapons globally, including the American arsenal. Butler, a former head of the US Strategic Air Command, signed a 1998 statement, organized by the group Global Zero, that called for the elimination of nuclear weapons globally. And Cartwright, a retired vice chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff and a former commander of United States nuclear forces, endorsed a 2012 report by Global Zero arguing that nuclear deterrence could be maintained with a far smaller US nuclear arsenal of 900 total warheads, versus the current stockpile of thousands of them, either deployed or in reserve.
But high-level military officers able and willing to criticize Donald Trump’s current global strategy and this country’s still rising military spending levels are an ever-shrinking cohort. Little wonder, given that, as a Quincy Institute report found, 80% of all three- and four- star generals who retired in a recent five-year period went to work for—yes, of course!—the arms industry in one capacity or another.
And although mid-level officers and those below them in the ranks are the likely backbone of a growing movement for peace and racial, gender, and economic justice, they simply can’t do it alone, even if their voices are crucial for reaching certain key audiences.
And here’s a reality of this moment: Given the torrent of threats to basic rights now emanating from Washington, movements of resistance need all the help they can get. In that grim context, anti-war veterans will certainly be crucial allies in the struggle for peace and justice, but there will also have to be a cultural and psychological shift, weaning many Americans from their attraction to war as a way to solve problems and their sense of themselves as citizens of “the most powerful country in the world.”
America’s “increasingly dysfunctional relationship to war” is analyzed in detail in 26-year Army veteran Gregory Daddis’s new book, Fear and Faith: America’s Relationship with War Since 1945. He believes that this country’s “martial bonds… have been informed by deep-seated frictions between faith in and fear of war and its consequences.” In his concluding chapter, “War for War’s Sake,” Daddis underscores the stubborn commitment to war that prevails among many Americans, despite the costly and disastrous wars of this century. “War,” he writes, “remains with us because we have inherited Cold War tendencies toward viewing the world in black-and-white terms, where every threat seems existential to the global American project… America’s faith never truly wavered, even after the debacle in Vietnam. Calls for military crusades against evil still resonate.”
Daddis believes that “a twisted relation with faith and fear, if left unbroken, can only preordain the nation to a militarized way of life bounded by the grimness of war.”
In light of the devastating impact of America’s post-9-11 wars, as documented by the Costs of War Project at Brown University—the loss of $8 trillion, hundreds of thousands of civilian lives, millions of people driven from their homes, and hundreds of thousands of US veterans suffering physical wounds or Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD)—calls for “peace through strength” and ever higher Pentagon budgets should ring increasingly hollow.
Isn’t it finally time for a respectful national dialogue about what constitutes an adequate defense and how to balance military preparations with other urgent national needs? Of course, having any such conversation, given the present deep divisions in American society, will be a challenge in its own right. But the alternative is a continuation of some variation of the devastating wars of the post-9-11 period, and such new and perilous conflicts will involve boots on the ground, air strikes, or the endless arming of repressive regimes.