What It Really Takes To Stop Genocide
Observing the failure of an overextended US military to intervene in Darfur, Michael O’Hanlon offers a creative proposal in the latest New Republic: form a rapid-deployment US military division dedicated to stopping genocide in the future. A 20,000-strong force should do the job, he argues. The problem is, it can’t. O’Hanlon—like many in the stop-genocide movement—neglects what military intervention really entails.
Once the force halts genocide, what happens next? If the mayhem in Iraq should teach us anything, it is that invaders need to be ready to rebuild. Countries rarely come equipped with shadow governments that are organized, legitimate, and desirable for instant installation—especially countries torn by genocidal violence and hatred. That means US troops will be in charge.
They cannot withdraw prematurely, plunging the country right back into genocide. They could hope the Europeans or United Nations takes over, but they cannot count on that, not when post-genocide stability seems likely to be uncertain. So if they really want to help, they better be willing and able to dig in and rule. A rapid-deployment division is designed to get in and get out. It will probably be capable of long-term occupation in neither manpower, training, nor doctrine; the US military as a whole lacks troops, military police, and civil personnel equipped for nation-building. That is to say nothing of domestic political pressures for withdrawal once casualties mount.
It would seem impossible to intervene to stop genocide only to do more harm than good. But unless America is willing and able to stay for years, exactly that might happen. The result would be tragedy for all involved.
“What happens next” seems like an obvious question to ask. Of course it ought to factor into decisions to intervene. Yet O’Hanlon ignores it. So do many fellow human-rights interventionists (notably Samantha Power in her Pulitzer Prize-winning A Problem from Hell). So did the Bush administration before the Iraq war. Why?
1. Perhaps intervention seems so imperative as to justify deception about the burdens it imposes. Such a view, however, is not only morally questionable but possibly self-defeating if it prevents recognition of actions needed to make intervention work.
2. Maybe the question is not asked because war evokes combat. Postwar stabilization is an afterthought in major wars, appropriately; the day after Pearl Harbor, FDR did not need a Japanese reconstruction plan to know to declare war. But such wars are fought to eliminate existential security threats. Humanitarian intervention, by contrast, is intended for the good of the local population. Those who would do good need to find out whether they can deliver.
3. The United States officially is not an empire and never acts like one (unofficially, not unless it feels like it, the Philippines and Haiti remind). Other Western nations are equally if not more anti-imperial. As I have argued, nations are unlikely to envision occupations they by nature “don’t do.”
4. Then there is good old idealism that can obscure reality. I have yet to hear an advocate of stopping genocide refer to “invasion.” Sometimes the term is “genocide prevention,” which would actually mean marching in before genocide started. Most often, however, it is “intervention.” Intervention is not invasion. It is clinical and cooperative. It’s what you do when you get your friends together to tell her he’s not the guy to date.
Intervention is war. “We should never be in a position where we are hesitant to stop a genocide because our troops are otherwise occupied,” O’Hanlon writes. I would say the opposite. We should always hesitate to stop a genocide, even if troops are available. We should hesitate in order to make sure we would do good. We should hesitate in order to imagine the possible and probable consequences. We should hesitate in order to plan realistically and farsightedly. If we will not do good, we must not go.
Advocates of stopping genocide like to ask why, despite post-Holocaust avowals of “never again,” genocide has been allowed to occur again and again. If they want to know the answer, they have to get real about what stopping genocide requires.

When evaluating strategies for correcting troubles in Iraq, it seems that even the most non-partisan of groups suggest solutions that are more successful at vote garnering than fulfilling some more important long-term goal. Far be it from any man to deride the work of the great James Baker, but at best, the report of the Iraq Study Group seems to pander to “Iraq hysteria” instead of appreciating the possibility for positive long-term effects in the country and region. If the United States were to entertain this week’s