Jack Kelly writer
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DEATH IN BEIRUT
(AmericanHeritage.com)
Twenty-three years ago today, more than 300 U.S.
Marines were sleeping inside a makeshift barracks
beside the Beirut airport as a balmy dawn was
breaking over Lebanon, when a smiling man with a
bushy mustache drove a Mercedes truck loaded with
explosives into the building. The ensuing blast,
estimated to be the largest non-nuclear explosion
ever, lifted the four-story building off its foundations
and caused it to collapse, killing 241 Americans.
Why were the Marines there? Why were they left
vulnerable to such an attack? What lessons did and
should we learn from the incident? These questions
remain as relevant today as they were two decades
ago.
When President Ronald Reagan assumed office in
1981, he saw the conflict in the Middle East in terms of
America’s ongoing struggle with the Soviet Union.
Administration officials pointed to the Soviets as the
primary source of world terrorism. Intelligence analysts
knew that this was nonsense. In the Middle East, Cold
War loyalties were a thin veneer covering far more
deeply rooted conflicts.
The path to catastrophe began in June 1982 when
Israel invaded Lebanon, a country that had been
mired in an intermittent civil war for the previous seven
years. The U.S. acquiesced in the attack, which was
aimed at eliminating Palestinian Liberation
Organization fighters in the country. But Reagan grew
alarmed when the Israeli army put Beirut under siege
and launched a devastating bombing campaign. In
late summer his envoy Philip Habib negotiated a
ceasefire among the major combatants, with the
proviso that a multinational peacekeeping force would
step in to oversee the departure of PLO fighters to
Tunis and to protect Muslim civilians.
Intervention in Lebanon was not a new experience for
the United States. In 1958 President Eisenhower had
sent 14,000 troops into the country to calm civil unrest
and installed a new president. The operation had
succeeded with almost no casualties.
The initial deployment of 800 Marines, along with
French and Italian forces, moved into the country in
August 1982. The PLO militia was soon gone, and the
Marines withdrew in early September.
Four days later, Lebanon’s Christian Phalangist
president-elect Bashir Gemayel was assassinated. In
response, Israeli armored columns attacked Muslim
West Beirut, and Israelis stood by while their
Phalangist allies massacred more than 700
Palestinian civilians in two refugee camps.
The U.S. Marines returned, this time for a prolonged
stay. Their mission was vague. They were to serve as
an “interposition force,” a “presence.” They would be
strictly neutral and would not engage in combat.
William B. Quandt, an expert on Middle East policy,
observed, “Lebanon is a harsh teacher. Those who try
to ignore its complex realities . . . usually end up
paying a high price.”
Complex is the key word. Defense Secretary Caspar
Weinberger, who opposed the Marine deployment
from the beginning, numbered 26 different armed
groups contending for power in the country, including
Maronite Christians and Druze Muslims. Syria, Iran,
and Israel all had their own interests in Lebanon. As
Weinberger’s military aide, Gen. Colin Powell, said of
the mission, “Beirut wasn’t sensible and never did
serve a purpose.”
The Marine deployment dragged on for a year; its
numbers crept up to 1,800. Under the rules of
engagement, most of them were not allowed to load
their weapons.
During the autumn of 1983 the situation in Lebanon
grew increasingly violent. An Israeli withdrawal left the
high ground around Beirut to the militias. Marines
were being killed by sniper and mortar fire. Ships from
the U.S. Sixth Fleet responded by shelling Druze and
Shiite positions. This military activity, and the
American efforts to train the armed forces of the
Christian-dominated Lebanese government,
convinced Muslims that the multinational force had
taken sides. Warnings about this change in perception
went unheeded in Washington.
Alarms had also been issued about the danger of the
Marines’ exposed position. The barracks was
protected only by a fence, concertina wire, and a few
obstacles made out of sewer pipe. Intelligence
analysts had raised the risk of terror attacks as early
as July 1982, before the Marines’ arrival. The warning
was brought home in April 1983 when terrorists
exploded a car bomb at the U.S. embassy in Beirut,
killing 17 Americans and more than 40 Lebanese.
Weinberger noted that U.S. forces were “sitting in a
bull’s eye.”
On Sunday morning, October 23, disaster struck. The
terrorist was a young man from a poor religious family.
He was probably backed by the Iranians. He managed
to dodge all the obstacles and crash the truck into the
building’s lobby. For the American military, the blast
resulted in the largest single-day loss of life since the
Battle of Iwo Jima. Adding to the carnage was a similar
and almost simultaneous attack on French forces two
miles away that killed 58 paratroopers.
An official report issued two months later dryly
criticized Marine commanders for failing “to take the
security measures necessary.” Reagan used the
verdict to push the blame to subordinates, ignoring
the sections of the document that criticized the
indeterminate mission of the U.S. forces. Two days
after the bombing, the President launched an invasion
of Grenada. He would successfully use the victory in
that lopsided operation to shield himself from the
negative consequences of Beirut during the 1984
election campaign.
In Lebanon, the Marines retreated to bunkers and
trench fortifications. Casualties continued. During his
January 1984 State of the Union address, Reagan
asserted that America’s continued military presence in
Lebanon was “central to our credibility on a global
scale.” Two weeks later he ordered the Marines out.
It has become axiomatic that the main lesson of the
1983 Beirut debacle was about the danger of
appeasing terrorists. This message was underscored
by the Al Qaeda leader Osama bin Laden, who
pointed to the hasty withdrawal as proof that the
Americans were “paper tigers.” “The Marines fled after
two explosions,” he boasted.
Bin Laden’s simple-minded and ahistorical statement
was taken to heart by many Americans. In Beirut, said
John Lehman, a member of the national 9/11
commission, “we told the world that terrorism
succeeds.”
This year has witnessed a disheartening reprise of the
early-1980s conflict in Lebanon: Another Israeli
invasion with tacit U.S. support. Another outcry over
civilian casualties. Another multinational force. Though
the United States will not participate in this latest
peacekeeping effort, its armed forces are again
committed to an open-ended mission in a Middle
Eastern country. They are again coping with a
complex conflict rooted in ancient animosities.
Administration officials have again drawn the situation
in stark black and white, this time in terms of the war
on terrorism rather the struggle with communism. The
President has again proclaimed that vital national
interests are at stake.
It’s easy to read the tragedy in Beirut as a warning
about the consequences of appeasement. But the
incident has suggested to some a more nuanced
lesson about the need for more careful strategic
thinking before committing U.S. forces, about the limits
of military intervention, and about the danger of
ignoring excruciatingly complex realities in favor of
ideology-tinted simplifications.
# # #
(AmericanHeritage.com)
Twenty-three years ago today, more than 300 U.S.
Marines were sleeping inside a makeshift barracks
beside the Beirut airport as a balmy dawn was
breaking over Lebanon, when a smiling man with a
bushy mustache drove a Mercedes truck loaded with
explosives into the building. The ensuing blast,
estimated to be the largest non-nuclear explosion
ever, lifted the four-story building off its foundations
and caused it to collapse, killing 241 Americans.
Why were the Marines there? Why were they left
vulnerable to such an attack? What lessons did and
should we learn from the incident? These questions
remain as relevant today as they were two decades
ago.
When President Ronald Reagan assumed office in
1981, he saw the conflict in the Middle East in terms of
America’s ongoing struggle with the Soviet Union.
Administration officials pointed to the Soviets as the
primary source of world terrorism. Intelligence analysts
knew that this was nonsense. In the Middle East, Cold
War loyalties were a thin veneer covering far more
deeply rooted conflicts.
The path to catastrophe began in June 1982 when
Israel invaded Lebanon, a country that had been
mired in an intermittent civil war for the previous seven
years. The U.S. acquiesced in the attack, which was
aimed at eliminating Palestinian Liberation
Organization fighters in the country. But Reagan grew
alarmed when the Israeli army put Beirut under siege
and launched a devastating bombing campaign. In
late summer his envoy Philip Habib negotiated a
ceasefire among the major combatants, with the
proviso that a multinational peacekeeping force would
step in to oversee the departure of PLO fighters to
Tunis and to protect Muslim civilians.
Intervention in Lebanon was not a new experience for
the United States. In 1958 President Eisenhower had
sent 14,000 troops into the country to calm civil unrest
and installed a new president. The operation had
succeeded with almost no casualties.
The initial deployment of 800 Marines, along with
French and Italian forces, moved into the country in
August 1982. The PLO militia was soon gone, and the
Marines withdrew in early September.
Four days later, Lebanon’s Christian Phalangist
president-elect Bashir Gemayel was assassinated. In
response, Israeli armored columns attacked Muslim
West Beirut, and Israelis stood by while their
Phalangist allies massacred more than 700
Palestinian civilians in two refugee camps.
The U.S. Marines returned, this time for a prolonged
stay. Their mission was vague. They were to serve as
an “interposition force,” a “presence.” They would be
strictly neutral and would not engage in combat.
William B. Quandt, an expert on Middle East policy,
observed, “Lebanon is a harsh teacher. Those who try
to ignore its complex realities . . . usually end up
paying a high price.”
Complex is the key word. Defense Secretary Caspar
Weinberger, who opposed the Marine deployment
from the beginning, numbered 26 different armed
groups contending for power in the country, including
Maronite Christians and Druze Muslims. Syria, Iran,
and Israel all had their own interests in Lebanon. As
Weinberger’s military aide, Gen. Colin Powell, said of
the mission, “Beirut wasn’t sensible and never did
serve a purpose.”
The Marine deployment dragged on for a year; its
numbers crept up to 1,800. Under the rules of
engagement, most of them were not allowed to load
their weapons.
During the autumn of 1983 the situation in Lebanon
grew increasingly violent. An Israeli withdrawal left the
high ground around Beirut to the militias. Marines
were being killed by sniper and mortar fire. Ships from
the U.S. Sixth Fleet responded by shelling Druze and
Shiite positions. This military activity, and the
American efforts to train the armed forces of the
Christian-dominated Lebanese government,
convinced Muslims that the multinational force had
taken sides. Warnings about this change in perception
went unheeded in Washington.
Alarms had also been issued about the danger of the
Marines’ exposed position. The barracks was
protected only by a fence, concertina wire, and a few
obstacles made out of sewer pipe. Intelligence
analysts had raised the risk of terror attacks as early
as July 1982, before the Marines’ arrival. The warning
was brought home in April 1983 when terrorists
exploded a car bomb at the U.S. embassy in Beirut,
killing 17 Americans and more than 40 Lebanese.
Weinberger noted that U.S. forces were “sitting in a
bull’s eye.”
On Sunday morning, October 23, disaster struck. The
terrorist was a young man from a poor religious family.
He was probably backed by the Iranians. He managed
to dodge all the obstacles and crash the truck into the
building’s lobby. For the American military, the blast
resulted in the largest single-day loss of life since the
Battle of Iwo Jima. Adding to the carnage was a similar
and almost simultaneous attack on French forces two
miles away that killed 58 paratroopers.
An official report issued two months later dryly
criticized Marine commanders for failing “to take the
security measures necessary.” Reagan used the
verdict to push the blame to subordinates, ignoring
the sections of the document that criticized the
indeterminate mission of the U.S. forces. Two days
after the bombing, the President launched an invasion
of Grenada. He would successfully use the victory in
that lopsided operation to shield himself from the
negative consequences of Beirut during the 1984
election campaign.
In Lebanon, the Marines retreated to bunkers and
trench fortifications. Casualties continued. During his
January 1984 State of the Union address, Reagan
asserted that America’s continued military presence in
Lebanon was “central to our credibility on a global
scale.” Two weeks later he ordered the Marines out.
It has become axiomatic that the main lesson of the
1983 Beirut debacle was about the danger of
appeasing terrorists. This message was underscored
by the Al Qaeda leader Osama bin Laden, who
pointed to the hasty withdrawal as proof that the
Americans were “paper tigers.” “The Marines fled after
two explosions,” he boasted.
Bin Laden’s simple-minded and ahistorical statement
was taken to heart by many Americans. In Beirut, said
John Lehman, a member of the national 9/11
commission, “we told the world that terrorism
succeeds.”
This year has witnessed a disheartening reprise of the
early-1980s conflict in Lebanon: Another Israeli
invasion with tacit U.S. support. Another outcry over
civilian casualties. Another multinational force. Though
the United States will not participate in this latest
peacekeeping effort, its armed forces are again
committed to an open-ended mission in a Middle
Eastern country. They are again coping with a
complex conflict rooted in ancient animosities.
Administration officials have again drawn the situation
in stark black and white, this time in terms of the war
on terrorism rather the struggle with communism. The
President has again proclaimed that vital national
interests are at stake.
It’s easy to read the tragedy in Beirut as a warning
about the consequences of appeasement. But the
incident has suggested to some a more nuanced
lesson about the need for more careful strategic
thinking before committing U.S. forces, about the limits
of military intervention, and about the danger of
ignoring excruciatingly complex realities in favor of
ideology-tinted simplifications.
# # #