Joe biden

It’s been a sobering fortnight for fans of America’s septuagenarian president. Even before he took office, Joe Biden was telling the world ‘America is back’ – a refrain he repeatedly returned to both in official speeches and on his personal Twitter account. But as the scenes of Afghanistan’s rapid collapse have appeared on timelines and televisions across the West, such confident assertions have curiously disappeared from the rhetoric of the supposed ‘leader of the free world.’ The embattled Democrat has repeatedly refused to extend the timetable of America’s withdrawal ahead of the twentieth anniversary of 9/11 despite the failure to evacuate all those Afghan’s most at risk of reprisals. Below

We used to sneer at the way the Russians were chased out of Afghanistan by a ragtag of mujaheddin armed only with Kalashnikovs and American Stinger rockets. No longer.  The last superpower to be defeated in Afghanistan withdrew in good order, having negotiated the arrangements with Kabul and the mujaheddin. They left behind a competent government, and an Afghan army capable of fighting the mujaheddin to a standstill. That government survived as long as the Russians went on supplying food and ammunition. Then the Russian government, close to meltdown, stopped deliveries. The mujaheddin swept to victory and fell straight into a bloody civil war. Many Afghans were relieved when the

The hasty withdrawal from Kabul has inevitably been compared to the Fall of Saigon at the end of the Vietnam war. Pictures of a Chinook flying over the US embassy in the Afghan capital to pluck staff to safety did bear something of a resemblance to the airlift of 1975. But is the comparison fair? Joe Biden, at least, has been keen – for understandable reasons – to deny that Afghanistan is anything like Vietnam. A month ago, Biden told a reporter he saw ‘zero’ parallel between the Vietnamese and Afghan withdrawals: ‘The Taliban is not the same as the North Vietnamese army. They’re not remotely comparable in terms of

Is a Taliban takeover of Afghanistan now inevitable?The President: No, it is not. Q. Why? The President: Because you — the Afghan troops have 300,000 well-equipped — as well-equipped as any army in the world — and an air force against something like 75,000 Taliban. It is not inevitable… Q. Do you trust handing over the country to the Taliban? The President: No, I do not trust the Taliban. Q. So why are you handing the country over…? The President: It’s a — it’s a silly question. Do I trust the Taliban? No. But I trust the capacity of the Afghan military, who is better trained, better equipped, and more

Among America’s self-described foreign policy ‘realists,’ there is a common trope according to which the best way for the United States to get its allies to do more is to show them some tough love – particularly by doing less. That theory has just been put to a test in Afghanistan. It has failed spectacularly. Contrary to the caricature of the protracted conflict in Afghanistan as a distinctly American endeavour, both the combat operations and the efforts at reconstruction were supported by an extraordinarily diverse coalition of countries, from New Zealand, through much of Europe, to Turkey. Of some 150,000 British troops who served in Afghanistan during the past two

Afghanistan will be a stain on the Biden presidency. His decision to continue with a US withdrawal from the country – he wants America out by the twentieth anniversary of the 9/11 attacks – reflects both the war-weariness of Washington and how Afghanistan and the ‘war on terror’ have dropped down the country’s list of strategic priorities. The consequences of the US withdrawal are all too apparent, with the Taliban now in control of two thirds of Aghanistan. American intelligence is worried that Kabul might fall within a month. In an awful historical irony, the Taliban could once more be in control of the Afghan capital by 11 September. The New York Times reports that

It would probably be wrong to say that Joe Biden and Vladimir Putin got on like a house on fire. But the results of the Geneva summit, which observed all the rules of Cold-War era summitry – from the venue to the formality of the arms-control and confidence-building agenda – far exceeded the deliberately doom-laden forecasts. In the space of around four hours at the Villa La Grange, the leaders of the United States and Russia effectively normalised relations that for the best part of four years had been bouncing around at rock-bottom, and dangerously so. The Russian and American ambassadors are returning to their capitals, working groups are being

‘In this present crisis, government is not the solution to our problem; government is the problem,’ proclaimed Ronald Reagan in his inaugural speech as American president. Forty years on, the leaders of the G7 have reversed this mantra. In Cornwall last week they declared that the government, and more specifically its $12 trillion of economic support, had not only been the answer during the pandemic but would continue to be the answer during the recovery. They committed ‘to support our economies for as long as is necessary, shifting the focus of our support from crisis response to promoting growth into the future’. It would have been quite possible for leaders