Ann Marlowe

Ann Marlowe, a visiting fellow at the Hudson Institute, is a writer and businesswoman based in New York City. In 2011, she made four trips to Libya to cover the revolution and war and returned twice in 2012. She is working on a book that will follow Libya's first year post-Gaddafi. Between 2002 and 2011 she traveled regularly to Afghanistan and published often on Afghanistan's politics, economy, culture and the U.S. counterinsurgency there. Her articles have appeared in the op –ed pages of the Wall Street Journal, New York Times, Washington Post and New York Post, and in the Weekly Standard, Daily Beast, Forbes.com, TNR.com,and many other publications. She tweets regularly (@annmarlowe) and blogs on Libya, the Arab Spring, the links between war and art and the cultural aspects of counterinsurgency for World Affairs at: http://www.worldaffairsjournal.org/new/blogs/marlowe

Her monograph on the life and intellectual context of David Galula was published by the Strategic Studies Institute of the Army War College in summer 2010. Ms. Marlowe has also published two memoirs and is one of the contributers to A New Literary History of America (Harvard University Press, 2009).

Ms. Marlowe is a regular guest on the John Batchelor radio show discussing Libya, Afghanistan and counterinsurgency. She has also appeared on Fox's "Happening Now", PBS’s “Ideas in Action” with Jim Glassman, VOA, RTTV, BloggingHeadsTV.com and other television programs. She has spoken at U.S. Army bases, the Army War College, U.S. State Department, the Institut d'Histoire du Temps Present in Paris, and American colleges. In 2009, she was a Media Fellow at the Hoover Institution and returned there for a research fellowship in 2010.

Ms. Marlowe was born in Suffern, New York in 1958 and educated at public schools in Pennsylvania and New Jersey. She received her B.A. in philosophy magna cum laude from Harvard University in 1979 and studied classical philosophy there in the Ph.D. program in 1979-80. In 1984, she received an MBA in finance from Columbia University's Graduate School of Business.


King John’s Verdict: the good, the bad, and Magna Carta

May 12th, 2015

(originally published in The Weekly Standard, 18 May 2015) http://www.weeklystandard.com/articles/king-john-s-verdict_941051.html#.VVI3dK7nqGQ.twitter

May 18, 2015, Vol. 20, No. 34

In Ivanhoe, Prince John is thoroughly repugnant, displaying “a dissolute audacity, mingled with extreme haughtiness and indifference to the feelings of others,” as well as a “libertine disposition.” According to Stephen Church, Walter Scott’s character is “almost wholly a later concoction”—except, presumably, for the love of fine clothes and jewelry that Scott depicts and Church’s archival evidence proves. The reality revealed here is even rougher.

While Prince John didn’t know what to do about his nephew Arthur, a rival claimant to the English throne, King John, after ascending the throne, contemplated blinding and castrating him—a punishment inflicted by Ottoman sultans upon their younger brothers. Ultimately, the king took the simplest route and had Arthur killed. The newly crowned John repudiated his first wife when a more advantageous alliance with a 12-year-old French heiress presented itself. Later, John incarcerated the wife and son of a rebellious baron and starved them to death.

Governance in John’s administration was as personal and secretive as in Saudi Arabia. It was conducted “by the king himself along with his domestic servants.” Our word “family,” Church explains, derives from the Latin familia, applied to a lord and his retainers, whether or not related by blood. Money, not blood, was at the root of “family.” But John’s kingdom wasn’t a savage backwater: The Angevins took their name from the French province Anjou, the capital of which was Angers. Now a sleepy university town, Angers is best known for its château containing the magnificent 14th-century Apocalypse tapestry. In the 12th century, though, Angers was at the center of the European world.

Church calls this book, in part, “a study in failure,” referring to John’s loss of his father Henry II’s French lands to the French king Philip Augustus. But it’s also a study in long-term success: While these Anglo-French battles would be re-fought in the Hundred Years’ War, John’s loss of territory and retreat to England was decisive for English history—and, indeed, for worldwide governance. His excesses led to Magna Carta (1215), which set the groundwork for Parliament and, eventually, constitutional monarchy.

Much of this lucid, workmanlike history could be ripped from today’s headlines—although in places like Iraq and Libya, not England and France. The unstable, untrusting alliances; the identification of the ruler with the state; the extortion by the ruler of his subjects; the outright sale of state offices; the brutal fighting among members of ruling families—all are the stuff of Third World politics today. How did England move from a culture in which one contemplated blinding and castrating one’s political rivals to the peaceable, money-laundering capital of the world? How did we English-speakers escape this past, and how can others for whom it is the present do so as well?

Church provides some answers. One is that medieval England had good luck. A major condition for stability was the state’s monopoly of force within its borders. The English had this one solved for them by William the Conqueror, who controlled Normandy as well as most of England: “The English king was richer in lands by a margin so great that no mere baron could challenge the king for power.” This isn’t to suggest a very impressive level of security; piracy was a problem at the time, even in the English Channel. But it did put Angevin England ahead of most European societies.

An organized, relatively stable state needs bureaucracy and wealth, and each in turn requires a work ethic and some measure of the rule of law. All of this was present in King John’s England, though still primitive. In fact, John’s reign is the first for which the king’s clerks recorded most of his correspondence. We don’t know why this common-sense measure was adopted at the time, but these documents (called Chancery Rolls) enable historians to reconstruct John’s movements and acts and also attest to a degree of organization. There was enough of a state apparatus that John could identify the lands of those who rebelled against him, as they would toward the end of his reign, and confiscate and redistribute them.

Wealth for most people in Angevin England meant land and agricultural produce; the use of money was still undeveloped. It wasn’t necessary for most of England’s three million people, but it was very necessary for those who would make war, such as the king. England had just one coin, a silver penny, and the total value of all those pennies was only £250,000 in today’s currency. In 1207, John controlled nearly a fifth of England’s wealth, raising £57,000 through an innovative tax called the Thirteenth. Earlier tax farming levied fixed amounts on the barons and landowners, who raised the money from their tenants in chief, who, in turn, raised it from their tenants. While responsibility was at the top, the pain was felt lower down the scale. John, instead, required all landowners, including churchmen, to pay 13 percent of their wealth to the crown, so the levies were not pushed down the social scale. Church believes that it was this tax that fatally alienated the nobility from King John, leading to Magna Carta. (He also notes that John, like other Angevin kings, used special taxes on the Jews to balance his budget.)

Education is essential for effective administration, and the events here took place around the time of the establishment of the University of Paris, the first university created north of the Alps and the second in Europe after Bologna. Oxford and Cambridge were still in the future, but a sufficient number of John’s barons were literate that Magna Carta was translated into the French that most of them used day to day.

Speaking of the rule of law, I would have welcomed a few pages about the state of English law at the time. We learn that, in Henry I’s Coronation Charter, he guaranteed that women would not be married without their families’ consent (or, for widows, without their own consent) and that Magna Carta allowed women the right to bring murder cases only for the death of a husband. A bit more context would have been welcome, however: How did John’s courts work? What access did ordinary people have to justice?

It is possible, of course, that the author prefers writing about battles and governance rather than laws and charters, for there is disappointingly little here about Magna Carta and how it relates to other royal charters. And while a perfunctory genealogical chart and two maps are included, a more extensive, better annotated Angevin family tree would have been nice, along with a few pages to explain how English dominion in France was resolved in the Hundred Years’ War.

But these shortcomings aside, Stephen Church has written a thoughtful and suggestive book, instructive for anyone interested in comparative government and essential for students of early medieval England and France.

Libyans Plead for American Help

May 1st, 2015

(originally published in The Weekly Standard, May 1 2015 http://www.weeklystandard.com/articles/libyans-plead-american-help_935209.html)
Midwifing democracy is not an Obama priority.
May 11, 2015, Vol. 20, No. 33 • By ANN MARLOWE
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‘Why does the United States fight terror in Syria, Iraq, and Africa but not in Libya?” Idris al Magreibi, 40, a tall, lightly bearded member of Libya’s House of Representatives in Tobruk, was pacing the floor in the offices of the Libyan Mission to the United Nations as he raised the question. He spoke in Arabic, and a member of the mission served as interpreter.
From left: Tarek Alashtar, Idris al Magreibi, and Essa al Arabi

From left: Tarek Alashtar, Idris al Magreibi, and Essa al Arabi

Ann Marlowe

Magreibi and his colleagues Essa al Arabi, also 40, and Tarek Alashtar, 35, were among 12 Libyan legislators visiting Washington and New York last week in an effort to win American support for the internationally recognized Tobruk government. Its House of Representatives—elected in free and fair elections in June 2014 and known as the HoR—is now battling the Islamic State (ISIS), Ansar al Sharia, and a rival coalition of Islamist militias known as Fajr (Dawn) that seized Tripoli last August.

The three are bright, high-energy advocates for the kind of government the United States thought Libya would get after the 2011 revolution: committed to elections, representative democracy, the modern world, and resistance to the Muslim Brotherhood and more extreme groups with a foothold in North Africa.

What they want from the United States is, most controversially, a further loosening of the already-relaxed U.N. arms ban on their government so that they can pursue the worthy objective of fighting ISIS and Ansar al Sharia. Many international observers worry that the weaponry would also be used against their Tripoli rivals. The Libyans point out, however, that Fajr is already supplying Ansar with arms.

The delegation also wants the United States to help train the Libyan National Army and police. (That was supposed to happen a couple of years ago but never got off the ground.) Two of the three I met—Arabi and Magreibi—as well as the HoR as a whole, asked for U.S. airstrikes on terror groups like ISIS and Ansar al Sharia, but none of the three wants U.S. boots on the ground.

The visitors can’t quite believe how little traction they are getting in Washington for requests they see as in America’s interest as well as theirs. Arabi, who represents a district in Benghazi still threatened by terrorists, noted, “A lot of people in Libya think that the United States is supporting the Muslim Brotherhood.” This may be because American support for the HoR has been, in the words of Libyan civil society activist Ayat Mneina, at best “decorative.”

How did we get here? Libyans voted for their first national assembly in July 2012. This General National Congress proved a disaster—corrupt, incapable, and unwilling to relinquish authority to its successor body, the 188-seat HoR. The Muslim Brotherhood and other Islamist parties did very poorly in the 2014 election and rejected its results.

During this period, militias were proliferating across the country. The General National Congress tried to pay them off. In Tripoli, rivalry between brigades from the mountain town of Zintan and the coastal city of Misrata erupted into open warfare for control of the airport.

In August, the Brotherhood struck back. Fajr took control of Tripoli airport, forcing the HoR to flee to Tobruk, on the coast near the Egyptian border. The Zintan militia retreated south into the Nafusa Mountains and has been engaged in a low-intensity conflict to regain territory ever since.

Now the HoR governs the eastern half of the country, some areas around Zintan, and part of the sparsely inhabited south. Its military is steadily gaining ground in an operation to recover control of western Libya. A few days after my interview, Fajr announced a truce with crucial tribes in the hinterland south of Tripoli, and at least one Misrata militia that had been fighting the Libyan National Army there agreed to pack up and go home.

In Tripoli, the rump General National Congress maintains a tenuous grip on power. Its radical Islamist prime minister, Omar al Hassi, was forced out a couple of weeks ago; he was once a member of the Libyan Islamic Fighting Group, an al Qaeda ally.

Fajr isn’t quite the Taliban, but almost. Hassi was given to praising Ansar al Sharia, which is still supplied by Misrata militias and is the group that murdered U.S. ambassador Chris Stevens on September 12, 2012. Hassi also denied that the ISIS execution videos showing the murder of 21 Coptic Christians were real.

Fajr has vandalized or removed all of the figurative statues that once adorned Tripoli and routinely destroys Sufi shrines. Under its influence, the Tripoli government has segregated girls and boys even in primary school. That said, many Fajr supporters reject these actions, yet still believe their city’s interests are best served by Fajr. The Berber town of Zwara, for instance, supports Fajr because it opposes their traditional Arab enemies in surrounding towns.

Even as the militias fight, U.N.-brokered talks to form a unity government have been moving steadily forward. The idea is that both the prime minister and cabinet picked by the HoR and those chosen by the Tripoli contingent would resign, and a new slate acceptable to all would replace them.

As of this week, the U.N. proposal would designate the HoR the legitimate legislature—unacceptable to Fajr but an absolute requirement for members of the HoR. As Tarek Alashtar put it, “It’s okay to have a coalition government, but the will of the people is in the House of Representatives. If we don’t respect the people’s will, we leave it open in the future for any armed group to do the same.”

Like the Libyan population generally, the MPs I met with are young. According to the CIA World Factbook, 44 percent of Libyans are under 24, and 70 percent are under 35. As a result of widespread disgust with Qaddafi-era power brokers, Libya’s young voters tend to support young politicians. They’re more tech-savvy than their elders—they’ve graduated from faxes to computers—but with no experience of democracy, they are building the plane as they are flying it.

None of the three I met with has much political experience. Idris al Magreibi, whose district is in the oil port of Brega, has spent his adult life in construction and agribusiness. Though active in civil society groups after the revolution, he was content to leave politics to others. Then the GNC’s disastrous reign began. “I thought everything would go well, but the people in power had other agendas. They were not working on building a country or civil society. Instead they were working with [extremists] in Mali, Syria, and Iraq.”

Magreibi stressed that his constituents are comparatively well off. “Most of the people in Brega work for oil companies,” he said. “There are some shortages of bread and fuel, but necessities are 60-65 percent available.” It speaks volumes that this is considered a “good” situation in today’s Libya.

Essa al Arabi was formerly manager of medical affairs at the HIV Center in Benghazi. He got involved in the revolution, which started in Benghazi, early on. He sat out the first Libyan parliamentary elections in 2012 but decided to run in 2014 because he was disappointed in the quality of the GNC and alarmed by the rise of Ansar al Sharia and the epidemic of assassinations and kidnappings in Benghazi. At least 250 and possibly as many as 600 Libyans were assassinated by Ansar and other terror groups in Benghazi and Derna in 2014.

What happened that fall—a frontal assault on the militias by General Khalifa Haftar—is controversial among Libyans. Haftar held no regular army position post-Qaddafi until he was appointed commander in chief of the Libyan National Army in March 2015. He has still not completely rid Benghazi of Ansar, though the assassinations have stopped, and most of the city is now under army and police control.

The HoR was supposed to sit in Benghazi, but that city is still too dangerous, hence its present location in Tobruk, a small, boring town far from everywhere. Many representatives spend weekends in places like Cairo or Tunis with their families, especially if their districts are controlled by Fajr or threatened by ISIS and its allies.

Magreibi lives in his district, but Arabi can’t live in Benghazi. And Tarek Alashtar can’t even visit his district in Tripoli while it’s ruled by Fajr. His family lives a couple of hours away, across the Tunisian border. He communicates with his constituents in the Abu Salim district of Tripoli mainly by Facebook (huge in Libya) and phone, even though phone and Internet communications are monitored by Fajr, he says, as they were under Qaddafi.

The three politicians’ time in the United States was drawing to a close as we spoke, and they said they’d enjoyed their trip, especially Washington, which they preferred to New York (very congested by Libyan standards).

A few days later, I got a press release in Arabic from the Libyan Ministry of Foreign Affairs expressing satisfaction with the visit. It said that the delegation had met with officials at the White House, State Department, Treasury, Department of Defense, Department of Energy, USAID, and unnamed congressional leaders. The American authorities had shown “an understanding of the current situation in Libya, and reiterated [their] commitment to support the democratic process in Libya and to respect the will and choice of the Libyan people.”

By now, though, Americans know that under the Obama administration, this isn’t likely to translate into the support a fragile new democracy needs.

My Libyan Friend Didn’t Have to Die

April 21st, 2015

(originally published in The Daily Beast, 4/21/2015 http://www.thedailybeast.com/articles/2015/04/21/my-libyan-friend-didn-t-have-to-die.html)

The corruption and incompetence of Libya’s “leaders” and the world community has spawned a massive migrant flow into the deadly Mediterranean—and killed my young friend.

My friend Ahmed was killed Monday in Sabratha, Libya, at the age of 22. To most Libyans, this fact would hardly raise an eyebrow; they have become so used to youthful deaths. Three Libyans I got to know during the 2011 revolution have been killed in the last year, but Ahmed was the only one to pick up a gun. The others were assassinated by terrorists in Benghazi.

Ahmed died fighting for what I regard as a terrible cause, on the side of “Fajr Libya,” the Islamist militias who seized Tripoli in August 2014. Most politics in Libya is local, and the people of Sabratha threw in their lot with Fajr. From Ahmed’s standpoint, he was defending his hometown, a picturesque coastal city featuring some of Libya’s most spectacular Roman ruins. It is also one of the ports where migrants are crowded onto boats trying to get to Europe or die, as thousands of them have done. These are the wages of chaos.

Sabratha is a conservative place with a jihadi streak—lots of men from there fought with the Libyan Islamic Fighting Group, and when I visited from time to time in 2011 and 2012, I saw more and more women in full-face veils on the well-groomed streets. But Ahmed wasn’t a political guy. Like other Libyans, and like Americans in our Civil War, he fought on the side of his relatives and neighbors.

This young man’s death is part of a uniquely Libyan tragedy. If the Libyan government hadn’t spent 2012-13 funding every militia in sight to the tune of an estimated $2.6 billion, Ahmed would most likely have chosen a different way of life. But Libyan politicians did fund the militias, fearing that otherwise they’d turn against the government. Even when they did turn against the government, they still paid the fighters.

And Ahmed was a naturally talented soldier. After dropping out of high school to work as a fisherman, he found himself in the revolution. He was an ingenious tinkerer and when I met him in a training camp for Sabratha revolutionaries in July 2011, he was a skinny, shy kid with a big smile who told me he wanted to be an inventor. But he also loved war and was both cunning and a born leader. Just after I met him, he captured seven of Muammar Kaddafi’s soldiers without firing a shot.

After Kaddafi was killed, I introduced Ahmed to a general in the Libyan Army who told him that if he went back to finish high school he would help him get into the military academy. But Ahmed didn’t like school and he was making good money for not much work as a thuwar, or revolutionary. Life isn’t difficult in Libya: housing is cheap, food is cheap, gas is cheap. He was also just 19, high-spirited and ready to enjoy freedom for the first time in his short experience. He loved working on cars, fishing, driving fast on Libya’s empty highways, not worrying about Kaddafi’s police everywhere.

In the fall of 2011 Ahmed took me to see his parents and sisters, who lived in a big house in a palm grove: quiet, respectable people. I think I met his older sister, married with kids. Then, in April 2012, Ahmed was in a terrible car accident in Tunisia. His older, married sister had been killed; Ahmed was in a coma for days. He had been at the wheel, taking her for to visit a doctor as many Libyans do in Tunisia.

The West stood by as Libya committed suicide by militia.

People have choices about how to react to tragedy. Ahmed could have decided to go back to school and devote his life to designing systems to improve car safety. Or persuading Libyans to use seat belts; his sister probably would have survived the accident if she’d been using one, but almost no Libyans do.

Ahmed’s reaction was to plunge into frivolity. When I saw him again in August 2012, he had bought a Jetski with a bonus payment he got for being a revolutionary. But he could barely walk, his legs had been so broken in the car accident. His older sister’s husband re-married just two months after her death, infuriating Ahmed’s younger sister.

Ahmed seemed sad that August. He was a kind and gracious host to me, a very Libyan characteristic, but I didn’t see how he would get over what had happened to his sister, and I also felt angry at him on her behalf.

That was my last trip to Libya. In 2013 I heard Ahmed was going to get medical treatment overseas for his legs. And then I lost touch. I tried calling him a couple of times but his phone didn’t work, which happens a lot in Libya. I hoped his bad legs would keep him out of the civil war.

It seems they didn’t. Ironically, I got in touch with both Ahmed and one of his brothers on Facebook just a day before Ahmed’s death. Ahmed sent me his new Libyan phone number. I was relieved he’d survived so far—and the war was drawing to a close.

When Libyans die, even terribly young, the accepted reaction is to post fatalistic quotations from the Quran on their Facebook page. From God we come and to God we return, and so on. But in the case of most Libyan deaths I know, this fatalism is not in order. Something could have been done. All too many of these deaths are preventable.

Stupid, selfish politicians created the conditions which made fighting the best economic choice available to someone with Ahmed’s inclinations and talents. Ahmed was enough of an outlier not to fit in to Kaddafi’s Libya, and typical enough to fit into the militia culture that followed. And by and large, the West stood by as Libya committed suicide by militia in the last few years.

Things might have gone very differently for Ahmed had there been tech incubators in Sabratha rather than militias. Or a new U.S.-organized military academy with exciting engineering courses. Or if the West had pressured Fajr’s foreign funders, the Qataris and Turks, to stop buying weapons for the militias.

Ahmed was a big-hearted, immature young man in a big-hearted, immature democracy: a run of the mill Libyan tragedy. I miss him.