Editors’ Note: We need to do better with the long-term instruments of counterterrorism, write Raymond Odierno and Michael O’Hanlon. That includes efforts within our own societies to promote social cohesion. This article originally appeared on USA Today.

In the aftermath of the Brussels tragedy, many good ideas are being floated to improve defenses against terrorists who are poised to strike. Belgium needs more resources for police work, including staking out suspects. Europe needs terrorist watch lists that are better automated and integrated. Police forces and national intelligence agencies need to work together more effectively, readjusting the point at which traditional police work ends and counterterrorism raids begin. We need to use technology such as closed-circuit TV, as well as simpler but time-tested methods like bomb-smelling dogs, more effectively in unhardened public places like subway stops and the external lobbies of airports.

The above are immediate and short-term measures. They are crucial. They are also insufficient. We need to continue to go after Islamic State's finances, too, leading a worldwide effort to restrict its sources of revenue and ability to store and move funds around. Beyond these actions, we need to do better with the long-term instruments of counterterrorism. These include the use of social media and other counter-messaging against the so-called caliphate. But they also include efforts within our own societies and especially those in Europe to promote social cohesion. Within many countries the inability to develop programs encouraging assimilation of immigrants, and of the home-born disaffected, has led to substantial pockets of disenfranchised citizens, a large majority being Muslim.

At least on issues concerning Muslim-majority communities, the United States can help point the way. We are fortunate, largely to the credit of our nation's Muslims who join our society in full and pursue the American dream, to have relatively few problems with Islamist extremism. Of course, there are exceptions, but on the whole, Muslim-American communities are our single greatest domestic allies in the struggle against extremism at home. They help provide information on would-be terrorists in their midst; they do not typically shelter, aid or condone the thinking of such extremists. Most of all, acting as loyal citizens, they provide role models and hopeful visions to their young, reducing the odds that the 20-somethings who seem to wind up the main culprits in most attacks abroad will feel the same urge within the United States. Because our own terror watch lists have gotten better since 9/11, and because of the hard work of border and immigration agencies, we are also often able to limit the movements of suspected terrorists to the United States from abroad.

None of this is to sound complacent. More than 70 individuals were arrested on American soil last year on suspicion of interest in supporting Islamic State or otherwise conducting extremist activity, and we suffered the San Bernardino tragedy.

Beyond matters of culture and assimilation, specific programs here contribute as well. In Montgomery County, Maryland, a coalition of faith leaders, school officials and law enforcement officers collaborate to try to identify and help would-be radicals before they turn to dangerous ways. In Ohio, fire departments try to reach into difficult neighborhoods and recruit workers. They recognize that their role in society can be less polarizing to some disaffected than would, say, certain types of police outreach, but that by extending the presence of the government into places where it is not always welcome, they can tamp down the temptations of some to turn to violence.

Many places in Britain are doing the same thing. Britain is a sort of bridge to Europe on this issue, like on many others—not having the apparent problems of say Molenbeek, the enclave in Brussels from which recent attackers have originated, but also having more concentrations of recent immigrants from the Middle East than does the United States. Aware of this situation, British authorities also try to extend the state's connections with shaky neighborhoods in ways that seek to engender trust in the state and better community rapport. Sometimes this can rely on police, who in the United Kingdom are usually unarmed. However, at other times, less traditional instruments, or less potentially imposing symbols of state authority, can be better. Again, fire departments come to mind, as do work programs that foster a sense of community involvement and cohesion (while also providing a paycheck). Sometimes armies can help, depending on their roles and reputations in given societies. Any of these can improve the government's image in key neighborhoods, while also helping create the kinds of communications between community leaders and authorities that produce intelligence leads when things start to go off the tracks.

U.S. presidential candidates are not talking much about these kinds of issues. But efforts to build social cohesion are not at odds with what some of them are advocating in response to Brussels. Greater police presence in jurisdictions like Molenbeek, intelligence surges and reforms, and also stronger actions against Islamic State in the Middle East and beyond are needed, to be sure. But such measures are not, in themselves, adequate.

Building social cohesion is difficult, of course, and often the strides forward are slow to come and hard to measure. It usually must happen at the city level. It is usually manpower-intensive work. It is always painstaking. Sometimes, of course, it simply fails. But without a reinvigorated emphasis on building social cohesion, in which cities and other jurisdictions learn from each other and share best practices to tie their communities more strongly together, we will not succeed in this crucial challenge of our times.

In the face of seemingly weekly terrorist attacks and reports that Islamic State affiliates are growing in number, political leaders are under pressure to take tougher action against ISIS and other violent extremist threats. Removing terrorists from the battlefield and from streets remains critical—President Obama announced last week that the United States will send 250 more special operations forces to Syria, for one, and other military, intelligence, and law enforcement efforts will be important. According to one assessment, the United States has spent $6.4 billion on counter-ISIS military operations since August 2014, with an average daily cost of $11.5 million. As a result of these and related efforts, the territory the Islamic State controls has been diminished and its leadership and resources degraded.

The more challenging task, however, may be preventing individuals from joining the Islamic State or future groups in the first place and developing, harnessing, and resourcing a set of tools to achieve this objective. Violent extremism is most likely to take root when communities do not challenge those who seek to radicalize others and can’t offer positive alternatives. Prevention is thus most effectively addressed by the communities themselves—mayors, teachers, social workers, youth, women, religious leaders, and mental health professionals—not national security professionals, let alone national governments. But it’s easier said than done for national governments to empower, train, and resource those communities. 

Political leaders around the globe are increasingly highlighting community engagement and the role of communities more broadly in a comprehensive counterterrorism strategy. States, however, continue to struggle with how to operationalize and sustain these elements of the strategy. 

Show us the money

First, there is the funding shortfall. Too many national governments continue not to provide local governments and communities with the resources needed to develop tailored community engagement programs to identify early signs of and prevent radicalization to violence. To take just one example of the disparity, the $11.5 million per day the United States spends on its military presence in Iraq is more than the $10 million the Department of Homeland Security was given this year to support grassroots countering violent extremism (CVE) efforts in the United States, and nearly twice as much as the State Department’s Bureau of Counterterrorism received this year to support civil society-led CVE initiatives across the entire globe. Although a growing number of countries are developing national CVE action plans that include roles for local leaders and communities, funding for implementation continues to fall short. Norway and Finland are two notable examples, and the situation in Belgium was well-documented following the March attacks in Brussels.

Prevention is thus most effectively addressed by the communities themselves...not national security professionals, let alone national governments.

At the international level, the Global Community Engagement and Resilience Fund (GCERF)—established in 2014 and modeled on the Global AIDS Fund to enable governments and private entities to support grassroots work to build resilience against violent extremism—has struggled to find adequate funding. GCERF offers a reliable and transparent mechanism to give grants and mentoring to small NGOs without the taint of government funding. Yet, despite the fact that “CVE” has risen to near the top of the global agenda, GCERF has only been able raise some $25 million from 12 donors—none from the private sector—since its September 2014 launch. This includes only $300,000 for a “rapid response fund” to support grassroots projects linked to stemming the flow of fighters to Iraq and Syria—presumably a high priority for the more than 90 countries that have seen their citizens travel to the conflict zone. The GCERF Board just approved more than half of the $25 million to support local projects in communities in the first three pilot countries—Bangladesh, Mali, and Nigeria. GCERF’s global ambitions, let alone its ability to provide funds to help sustain the projects in the three pilots or to support work in the next tranche of countries (Burma, Kenya, and Kosovo) are in jeopardy unless donors pony up more resources to support the kind approach—involving governments, civil society, and the private sector—that is likely needed to make progress on prevention over the long-term.

Go grassroots

Second, national governments struggle with how best to involve cities and local communities. Governments still have a traditional view of national security emanating from the capital. Although a growing number of governments are encouraging, and in some cases providing, some resources to support city- or community-led CVE programs, they have generally been reluctant to really bring sub-national actors into conversations about how to address security challenges. Some capitals, primarily in Western Europe, have created national-level CVE task forces with a wide range of voices. Others, like the United States, have stuck with a model that is limited to national government—and primarily law enforcement—agencies, thus complicating efforts to involve and build durable partnerships with the local actors, whether mayors, community leaders, social workers, or mental health officials, that are so critical to prevention efforts. 

Some members of the target communities remain skeptical of government-led CVE initiatives, sometimes believing them to be a ruse for intelligence gathering or having the effect of stigmatizing and stereotyping certain communities. As debates around the FBI’s Shared Responsibilities Committees show, there are high levels of mistrust between the government—particularly law enforcement—and local communities. This can complicate efforts to roll out even well-intentioned government-led programs aimed at involving community actors in efforts to prevent young people from joining the Islamic State. The trouble is, communities are largely dependent on government support for training and programming in this area (with a few exceptions). 

To their credit, governments increasingly recognize that they—particularly at the national level—are not the most credible CVE actors, whether on- or off-line, within the often marginalized communities they are trying to reach. They’re placing greater emphasis on identifying and supporting more credible local partners, instead, and trying to get out of the way. 

Invest now, see dividends later

On the positive side of the ledger, even with the limited resources available, new (albeit small-scale) grassroots initiatives have been developed in cities ranging from Mombasa to Maiduguri and Denver to Dakar. These are aimed at building trust between local police and marginalized groups, creating positive alternatives for youth who are being targeted by terrorist propaganda, or otherwise building the resilience of the community to resist the siren call of violent extremism. 

Perhaps even more promising, new prevention-focused CVE networks designed to connect and empower sub-national actors—often with funds, but not instructions, from Western donors—are now in place. These platforms can pool limited resources and focus on connecting and training the growing number of young people and women working in this area; the local researchers focused on understanding local drivers of violent extremism and what has worked to stem its tide in particular communities; and mayors across the world who will gather next month for the first global Strong Cities Network summit. Much like GCERF, these new platforms will require long-term funding—ideally from governments, foundations, and the private sector—to survive and deliver on their potential. 

Somewhat paradoxically, while the United States (working closely with allies) has been at the forefront of efforts to develop and resource these platforms overseas and to recognize the limits of a top-down approach driven by national governments, similar innovations have yet to take root at home. More funding and innovation, both home and abroad, can make a huge difference. For example, it could lead to more community-led counter-narrative, skills-building, or counselling programs for young people at risk of joining the Islamic State. It could also help build trust between local police and the communities they are meant to serve, lead to more training of mainstream religious leaders on how to use social media to reach marginalized youth, as well as empower young filmmakers to engage their peers about the dangers of violent extremism. And national prevention networks that aren’t limited to just government officials can help support and mentor communities looking to develop prevention or intervention programs that take local sensitivities into account. Without this kind of rigorous effort, the large sums spent on defeating terrorism will not pay the dividends that are badly needed. 

In March alone, at least nine cities across three continents were hit by terrorist attacks. Municipalities—from megacities to tertiary cities—continue to bear the brunt of such attacks: in the short term, they provide first response and take essential security measures; in the longer term, they suffer from the fallout of intercommunal tensions and economic slowdowns, which can last for years and spread beyond the target city.

Yet, post-attack discussions tend to be dominated by what national governments can do to prevent future attacks—whether through enhanced border security, law enforcement, intelligence, or military measures; or though intensified efforts to resolve underlying conflicts; or through more cooperation with foreign governments. This is understandable given the resources of national governments and their long-standing monopoly on force and foreign policy. Nevertheless, a small but growing number of cities and other local authorities are realizing that they have an essential role to play in countering violent extremism (CVE) as well.

Urban trend-setters

There is nothing new about cities coming to the realization that they need to act in the face of global challenges. Mayors and city-networks such as the C40 Climate Action Leadership Group have vocally engaged on the global stage to counter carbon emissions. Cities have frequently shown themselves to be generally more nimble and less averse to risk-taking than their national counterparts. Mayors operate under intense expectations to “get things done,” but when it comes to the threats of transnational violent extremism, what does that mean?

Much like with climate change and other global challenges where cities are becoming increasingly active stakeholders, cities are serving as laboratories for developing and testing innovative initiatives to prevent violent extremism from taking root, designed and implemented in collaboration with local communities. 

[C]ities are serving as laboratories for developing and testing innovative initiatives to prevent violent extremism from taking root.

The comparative advantages of local authorities are manifold: They are best positioned to understand the grievances that might make their citizens vulnerable to terrorist recruitment; to identify the drivers and early signs of violent extremism; to build trust between the community and local police; to develop multi-agency prevention efforts that involve families, community leaders, social workers, and mental health professionals; and to develop programs that offer alternatives to alienated youth who might otherwise be attracted to violence. 

Recognizing these advantages, local leaders are developing strategies and programs to address the violent extremist threat at each stage of the radicalization cycle. Cities across Europe have been at the forefront of these efforts, with Aarhus, Denmark often cited as a model. The approach of Aarhus involves both prevention and care, relying an extensive community-level network to help young people returning from Syria an opportunity to reintegrate in Danish society (provided they haven’t committed a crime) and mentoring to try to dissuade people from traveling to the conflict. 

In Montgomery County, Maryland, the county authorities are involved in a community intervention program that includes training for faith leaders, teachers, social service providers, police, and parents on how to recognize the early signs of extremism in underserviced immigrant communities. 

In Montreal, a $2 million, multi-disciplinary “anti-radicalization center” provides mothers who suspect their children may be vulnerable to radicalization or recruitment with resources that don’t involve contacting the police. The center focuses on training people how to identify the signs of radicalization and researching the drivers of radicalization in Montreal and what works to prevent its growth. 

Cities are dynamic actors, in part, because they have no problem borrowing from each other. Inspired by the Montreal initiative, Brussels opened a prevention-focused, anti-radicalization center, which—like the Montreal center—keeps the police out of the picture unless necessary to confront an imminent threat.

In Australia, both Victoria and New South Wales have set aside funds to support local NGO-led interventions that target individuals who may be radicalizing and build community resilience.

In Mombasa, Kenya, Governor Hassan Ali Joho is working with the regional parliament and local civil society groups to develop a county-level CVE strategy that includes a heavy focus on providing youth with positive alternatives to joining al-Shabab.

Except for Mombasa, nearly all municipality-led CVE efforts are taking place in the global north. Throughout the world, mayors and other local leaders are not part of national-level conversations about how to prevent future attacks. If national governments insist on viewing national security issues like violent extremism as being the exclusive policy domain of the capital, they will miss crucial opportunities to address a threat that is increasingly localized. 

Part of the challenge is that, much like on other global issues, municipal authorities operate within the policy and bureaucratic frameworks of national governments. Those governments can enable or, just as frequently, impede effective local action. Thus, there is often a ceiling for local actors. Raising or breaking through the ceiling is particularly difficult in the security space, given the monopoly that many national governments want to maintain over issues of national security—even while recognizing the need for local solutions.

Flattening the CVE policy space

The good news is that in countries where local authorities can innovate and lead, energy around city-led CVE efforts is increasing. Cities are sharing lessons learned and challenges, with city-to-city networks like with the Strong Cities Network (SCN)—which held its first summit earlier this month in Antalya, Turkey—sprouting to facilitate cooperation.

Yet, a significant majority of SCN members are in countries where national governments already acknowledge local authorities’ key role in CVE. With a few exceptions, cities from large swathes of the globe—including in regions where the problem of violent extremism is most acute, like the Middle East and North Africa, as well as Asia—are not enabled to contribute to efforts to prevent violent extremism from taking root in their communities. 

CVE discussions in general should highlight ways in which national policymakers have enabled effective local CVE activities, as well as roadblocks and solutions. These discussions should also be brought into multilateral platforms such as the U.N. Global Counterterrorism Forum. 

A number of other steps could be taken to enhance vertical cooperation on CVE. For example, countries could involve municipal-level representatives (not simply the national ministry responsible for engaging with such authorities) in developing national CVE plans and provide such authorities with a role in implementation. National governments that already do this could start including representatives of cities in security and broader foreign policy dialogues, particularly with those that continue to resist their involvement. 

National governments should incentivize local authorities to work with their communities to innovate in this issue area. A public-private innovation fund could be established to support city-led CVE projects in countries where political will exceeds resources; those international donors committed to supporting local solutions to global challenges and increasing the involvement of local authorities in national security conversations should invest in such a fund and, more broadly, in building the capacity of city-level officials and practitioners in the CVE sphere.

None of these steps is likely to be an elixir—after all, the notion that national security issues should be handled exclusively at the national level is deeply entrenched. However, taking these steps can generate gradual improvements in vertical cooperation on CVE issues, much like we have seen with international and inter-agency counterterrorism cooperation involving national governments over the past decade. 

In the early hours of Sunday June 12, 2016, a madman perpetrated the mass murder of 49 people in a nightclub considered a safe space for Orlando’s LGBT community. 

Politicians quickly went into gear to exploit this tragedy to push their own agendas. Glaringly silent on the civil rights of LGBT communities, Donald Trump and Ted Cruz repeated their calls to ban, deport, and more aggressively prosecute Muslims in the wake of this attack. As if Muslims in America are not already selectively targeted in counterterrorism enforcement, stopped for extra security by the TSA at airports, and targeted for entrapment in terrorism cases manufactured by the FBI. 

Other politicians reiterated calls for Muslim communities to fight extremism purportedly infecting their communities, all while ignoring the fact that domestic terrorism carried out by non-Muslim perpetrators since 9/11 has had a higher impact than the jihadist threat. Asking Muslim American communities to counter violent extremism is a red herring and a nonstarter. 

In 2011, the White House initiated a countering violent extremism (CVE) program as a new form of soft counterterrorism. Under the rubric of community partnerships, Muslim communities are invited to work with law enforcement to prevent Muslims from joining foreign terrorist groups such as ISIS. Federal grants and rubbing elbows with high level federal officials are among the fringe benefits for cooperation, or cooptation as some critics argue, with the CVE program. 

Putting aside the un-American imposition of collective responsibility on Muslims, it is a red herring to call on Muslims to counter violent extremism. An individual cannot prevent a criminal act about which s/he has no knowledge. Past cases show that Muslim leaders, or the perpetrators’ family members for that matter, do not have knowledge of planned terrorist acts. 

Hence, Muslims and non-Muslims alike are in the same state of uncertainty and insecurity about the circumstances surrounding the next terrorist act on American soil. 

CVE is also a nonstarter for a community under siege by the government and private acts of discrimination. CVE programs expect community leaders and parents to engage young people on timely religious, political, and social matters. While this is generally a good practice for all communities, it should not be conducted through a security paradigm. Nor can it occur without a safe space for honest dialogue.

After fifteen years of aggressive surveillance and investigations, there are few safe spaces left in Muslim communities. Thanks in large part to mass FBI surveillance, mosques have become intellectual deserts where no one dares engage in discussions on sensitive political or religious topics. Fears that informants and undercover agents may secretly report on anyone who even criticizes American foreign policy have stripped mosques from their role as a community center where ideas can be freely debated. Government deportations of imams with critical views have turned Friday sermons into sterile monologues about mundane topics. And government efforts to promote “moderate” Muslims impose an assimilationist, anti-intellectual, and tokenized Muslim identity. 

For these reasons, debates about religion, politics, and society among young people are taking place online outside the purview of mosques, imams, and parents. 

Meanwhile, Muslim youth are reminded in their daily lives that they are suspect and their religion is violent. Students are subjected to bullying at school. Mosques are vandalized in conjunction with racist messages.  Workers face harassment at work. Muslim women wearing headscarves are assaulted in public spaces. Whether fear or bigotry drives the prejudice, government action and politicians’ rhetoric legitimize discrimination as an act of patriotism.

Defending against these civil rights assaults is consuming Muslim Americans’ community resources and attention. Worried about their physical safety, their means of livelihood, and the well-being of their children in schools; many Muslim Americans experience the post-9/11 era as doubly victimized by terrorism. Their civil rights are violated by private actors and their civil liberties are violated by government actors—all in retribution for a criminal act about which they had no prior knowledge, and which they had no power to prevent by a criminal with whom they had no relationship.

To be sure, we should not sit back and allow another mass shooting to occur without a national conversation about the causes of such violence. But wasting time debating ineffective and racialized CVE programs is not constructive. Our efforts are better spent addressing gun violence, the rise of homophobic violence, and failed American foreign policy in the Middle East.

We all have a responsibility to do what we can to prevent more madmen from engaging in senseless violence that violates our safe spaces.

This article was originally published in the Huffington Post.

Editors' Note: Al-Shabab’s operational capacities and intimidation power have grown in the past year, writes Vanda Felbab-Brown. Many of Kenya’s counterterrorism policies have been counterproductive, and counterinsurgency efforts by the African Union Mission in Somalia (AMISOM) have at best stagnated. This piece was originally published by The Cipher Brief.

April 2 marked one year since the Somali terrorist group al-Shabab attacked the Garissa University in Kenya and killed 148 people, galvanizing Kenya to intensify its counterterrorism efforts. Yet al-Shabab’s operational capacities and intimidation power have grown in the past year. Many of Kenya’s counterterrorism policies have been counterproductive, and counterinsurgency efforts by the African Union Mission in Somalia (AMISOM) have at best stagnated. State building in Somalia is only creeping, with service-delivery by the federal government and newly formed states mostly lacking. Politics continues to be clan-based, rapacious, and discriminatory, with the forthcoming 2016 elections in Somalia thus far merely intensifying political infighting.

Al-Shabab: A rejuvenation

Despite internal and external threats to its effective functioning, al-Shabab is on the upswing again. It has carried out dozens of terrorist attacks within Somalia, including against hotels used by government officials as workspaces and housing, and on beaches and in markets throughout the country. It has raised fear among the population and hampers the basic government functionality and civil society mobilization.

In February 2016, al-Shabab, for the first time, succeeded in smuggling a bomb onboard a flight from Mogadishu. Disturbingly, it has been retaking cities in southern Somalia, including the important port of Merka. It has also overrun AMISOM bases and seized weapons and humvees: one such attack on a Kenyan forward-operating base was likely the deadliest ever suffered by the Kenyan military. Al-Shabab’s operational capacity has also recovered from the internal rifts between its anti-foreign-jihadi, pro-al-Qaida, pro-ISIS, and Somalia-focused factions.

Not all the power jockeying has been settled, and not all leadership succession struggles have been resolved. Moreover, an ISIS branch independent of and antagonistic to al-Shabab is trying to grow in Somalia and has been battling al-Shabab (in a way that parallels the ISIS-Taliban tangles in Afghanistan). Nonetheless, al-Shabab is once more on the rise and has recovered its financing from charcoal, sugar, and other smuggling in southern Somalia, and from taxing traffic and businesses throughout its area of operation, including in Mogadishu.

Although the terrorist violence is almost always claimed by al-Shabab, many of the attacks and assassinations are the work of politicians, businessmen, and clans, intimidating rivals or seeking revenge in their disputes over land and contracts. Indeed, with the clock ticking down to the expected 2016 national elections in Somalia, much of the current violence also reflects political prepositioning for the elections and desire to eliminate political rivals.

Kenya and AMISOM: Don’t sugarcoat it

In contrast to the upbeat mood among al-Shabab, AMISOM efforts have at best been stalled. With the training of Somali national forces going slowly and the force still torn by clan rivalries and shackled by a lack of military enablers, the 22,000-strong AMISOM continues to be the principal counterinsurgency force. Counterterrorism attacks by U.S. drone and special operations forces complicate al-Shabab’s operations, but do not alter the balance of power on the ground. In its ninth year now, and having cost more than U.S.$1 billion, AMISOM continues to be barricaded in its bases, and many of Somalia’s roads, even in areas that are supposedly cleared, are continually controlled by al-Shabab. In cities where AMISOM is nominally in charge, al-Shabab often rules more than the night as AMISOM conducts little active patrolling or fresh anti-Shabab operations even during the day. Rarely are there formal Somali forces or government offices to whom to hand over the post-clearing “holding and building” efforts. There is little coordination, intelligence sharing, or joint planning among the countries folded under the AMISOM heading, with capabilities vastly uneven. The principle benefit of the Burundi forces in Somalia, for example, is that they are not joining the ethnic infighting developing in their home country.

Ethiopia and Kenya still support their favorite Somali proxies. For Kenya, the key ally is Sheik Ahmed “Madobe,” a former high-level al-Shabab commander who defected to create his Ogadeni anti-Shabab militias, Ras Kamboni, and who in 2015 got himself elected president of the newly-formed Jubaland state. Along with Madobe and other Ogadeni powerbrokers, Kenyan Defense Forces control the Kismayo port. Like al-Shabab, they allegedly illegally tax smuggled sugar, charcoal, and other goods through the port and southern Kenya. In addition to these nefarious proceeds on the order of tens to hundreds of millions of U.S. dollars, Kenya’s other interests in Somalia often clash with those of Ethiopia and the Somali national government, including over projecting power off Somali coast and strengthening local warlords and militias who promise to keep Ogadeni mobilization in Kenya down.

At home, Kenya’s counterterrorism activities have been not only parochial, but often outright counterproductive. Post-Garissa dragnets have rounded up countless Kenyan ethnic Somalis and Somali immigrants and refugees. Entire communities have been made scapegoats. For a while, the Kenyan government tried to shut down all Somali hawala services based in Kenya as well as to expel Somali refugees and shut down their camps. Accusations of torture, disappearances, and extrajudicial killings by Kenyan Defense Forces, the police, and other security agencies are widespread. Meanwhile, despite U.S. counterterrorism training and assistance such as through the Security Governance Initiative, debilitating corruption plagues Kenya’s security forces and agencies.

Somalia’s government: Old and new mires

The Somali federal government and the newly formed state-level administrations mostly falter in delivering services that Somali people crave. Competition over state jobs and whatever meager state-sponsored resources are available continue to be mired in clan rivalries and discrimination. Unfortunately, even newly formed (Jubaland, Southwest, and Galmudug) and still-forming states (Hiraan and Middle Shabelle) have not escaped rapacious clan politics. Dominant clans tend not to share power and resources with less numerous ones, often engaging in outright land theft, such as in Jubaland. Civil society contributions have been marginalized. Such misgovernance and clan-based marginalization, as well as more conservative religious politics, are also creeping into Somaliland and Puntland, the two more stable states. Throughout Somalia and in Northeast Kenya, al-Shabab is skillfully inserting itself into clan rivalries and mobilizing support among those who feel marginalized.

The expected 2016 national elections further intensify these clan and elite political rivalries. The hope that the elections could take the form of one man, one vote was once again dashed, with the promise that such elections will take place in 2020. Instead, the 2016 electoral process will reflect the 4.5 model in practice since 2004, in which the four major clans get to appoint the same proportion of the 275 members of the lower chamber and the minority clans will together be allotted half the MP positions that each major clan gets. This system has promoted discriminatory clan rivalries and elite interests. The 54 members of the upper chamber will be appointed by Somalia’s states, including the newly formed and forming states. This arrangement requires that the state formation process is finished well before the elections, but also problematically increases the immediate stakes in the state formation. Finalizing the provisional constitution and getting it approved by a referendum—another key item of the Vision 2016 agreed to by the Somali government and international donors—is also in question.

Perhaps the greatest progress has been made in devolving power from Mogadishu through the formation of subnational states. But there is a real risk that rather than bonding Somalis with state structures as the international community long hoped for and prescribed, the power devolution to newly formed states will instead devolve discriminatory and rapacious politics.

An American drone strike that killed leader of the Afghan Taliban Mullah Akhtar Mohammed Mansour may seem like a fillip for the United States’ ally, the embattled government of Afghanistan’s President Ashraf Ghani. But as Vanda Felbab-Brown writes in a new op-ed for The New York Times, it is unlikely to improve Kabul’s immediate national security problems—and may create more difficulties than it solves.

The White House has argued that because Mansour became opposed to peace talks with the Afghan government, removing him became necessary to facilitate new talks. Yet, as Vanda writes in the op-ed, “the notion that the United States can drone-strike its way through the leadership of the Afghan Taliban until it finds an acceptable interlocutor seems optimistic, at best.”

[T]he notion that the United States can drone-strike its way through the leadership of the Afghan Taliban until it finds an acceptable interlocutor seems optimistic, at best.

Mullah Mansour's death does not inevitably translate into substantial weakening of the Taliban's operational capacity or a reprieve from what is shaping up to be a bloody summer in Afghanistan. Any fragmentation of the Taliban to come does not ipso facto imply stronger Afghan security forces or a reduction of violent conflict. Even if Mansour's demise eventually turns out to be an inflection point in the conflict and the Taliban does seriously fragment, such an outcome may only add complexity to the conflict. A lot of other factors, including crucially Afghan politics, influence the capacity of the Afghan security forces and their battlefield performance.

Nor will Mansour’s death motivate the Taliban to start negotiating. That did not happen when it was revealed last July’s the group’s previous leader and founder, Mullah Mohammad Omar, had died in 2013. To the contrary, the Taliban’s subsequent military push has been its strongest in a decade—with its most violent faction, the Haqqani network, striking the heart of Kabul. Mansour had empowered the violent Haqqanis following Omar’s death as a means to reconsolidate the Taliban, and their continued presence portends future violence. Mansour's successor, Mawlawi Haibatullah Akhundzada, the Taliban’s former minister of justice who loved to issue execution orders, is unlikely to be in a position to negotiate (if he even wants to) for a considerable time as he seeks to gain control and create legitimacy within the movement.

The United States has sent a strong signal to Pakistan, which continues to deny the presence of the Afghan Taliban and the Haqqani network within its borders. Motivated by a fear of provoking the groups against itself, Pakistan continues to show no willingness to take them on, despite the conditions on U.S. aid.

Disrupting the group’s leadership by drone-strike decapitation is tempting militarily. But it can be too blunt an instrument, since negotiations and reconciliation ultimately depend on political processes. In decapitation targeting, the U.S. leadership must think critically about whether the likely successor will be better or worse for the counterinsurgency endgame.

Nearly eight years after a U.S.-led invasion toppled the Taliban regime, Afghanistan remains far from stable. As President Barack Obama considers alternatives to increasing the number of U.S. troops in Afghanistan, his administration’s new counternarcotics strategy meshes well with counterinsurgency and state-building efforts in the country. It is a welcome break from previous ineffective and counterproductive policies. The effectiveness of the policy with respect to counternarcotics, counterinsurgency and state-building, however, will depend on the operationalization of the strategy. The details are not yet clear, but the strategy potentially faces many pitfalls.

Efforts to bankrupt the Taliban through eradication are futile and counterproductive since they cement the bonds between the population and the Taliban. But interdiction is very unlikely to bankrupt the Taliban either. Security needs to come first before any counternarcotics policy has a chance of being effective. Counterinsurgent forces can prevail against the Taliban, without shutting down the Taliban drug income, by adopting an appropriate strategy that provides security and rule of law to the population and by sufficiently beefing up their own resources vis-à-vis the Taliban. Rural development is a long term and multifaceted effort. Simplistic strategies that focus simply on price ratios or try to raise risk through “seed-burn-seed” approaches are ineffective. Wheat replacement strategy as a core of the alternative livelihoods effort is singularly inappropriate for Afghanistan. Shortcuts do not lead to sustainable policies that also mitigate conflict and enhance state-building.

The Obama administration will need to reduce expectations for quick fixes and present realistic timelines to Congress, the U.S. public and the international community for how long rural development and other counternarcotics policies in Afghanistan will take to show meaningful and sustainable progress that advances human security of the Afghan people, mitigates conflict and enhance state building. Unless this is conveyed, there is a real danger that even a well-designed counternarcotics policy will be prematurely and unfortunately discarded as ineffective.

The New Strategy in Afghanistan’s Context

In summer 2009, the Obama administration unveiled the outlines of a new counternarcotics policy in Afghanistan. The new policy represents a courageous break with previous misguided efforts there and thirty years of U.S. counternarcotics policies around the world. Instead of emphasizing premature eradication of poppy crops, the new policy centers on increased interdiction and rural development. This approach strongly enhances the new counterinsurgency policy focus on providing security to the rural population, instead of being preoccupied with the numbers of incapacitated Taliban and al Qaeda.

In Afghanistan, somewhere between a third and a half of its GDP comes from poppy cultivation and processing and much of the rest from foreign aid, so the illicit poppy economy determines the economic survival of a large segment of the population. This is true not only of the farmers who cultivate opium poppy frequently in the absence of viable legal and illegal economic alternatives. But, as a result of micro- and macro-economic spillovers and the acute paucity of legal economic activity, much of the economic life in large cities is also underpinned by the poppy economy. After a quarter century of intense poppy cultivation, the opium poppy economy is deeply entrenched in the socio-economic fabric of the society. Islamic prohibitions against opiates notwithstanding, the poppy economy inevitably underlies Afghanistan’s political arrangements and power relations. Profits from taxing poppy cultivation and protecting smuggling rings bring substantial income to the Taliban. A recent CRS report (August 2009) estimates the income at $70-$100 million per year, which accounts for perhaps as much as half of Taliban income. But many other actors in Afghanistan profit from the opium poppy economy in a similar way: former warlords cum government officials; members of Afghanistan’s police; tribal chiefs; and independent traffickers.

Moreover, the Taliban and many others who protect the opium poppy economy from efforts to suppress it derive much more than financial profits. Crucially, they also obtain political capital from populations dependent on poppy cultivation. Such political capital is a critical determinant of the success and sustainability of the insurgency since public support or at least acceptance are crucial enablers of an insurgency. Indeed, as I detail in my forthcoming book, Shooting Up: Counterinsurgency and the War on Drugs, along with providing order that the Afghan government is systematically unable to provide and capitalizing on Ghilzai Pashtun sentiments of being marginalized, protection of the poppy fields is at the core of the Taliban support. By not targeting the farmers, the new counternarcotics strategy is thus synchronized with the counterinsurgency efforts because it can deprive the Taliban of a key source of support. Its overall design also promises to lay the necessary groundwork for substantial reductions in the size and impacts of the illicit economy in Afghanistan.

However, while appropriate in its overall conception, the new strategy has pitfalls. Specifically how to operationalize interdiction and rural development will to a great extent determine the effectiveness of the strategy—not only with respect to the narrow goal of narcotics suppression, but also with respect to counterinsurgency and state-building. While many of the details still remain to be developed, some of those that have trickled out give reasons for concern.

Effects of Previous Eradication-Centered Policy

During the 2008-09 growing season, the area of cultivation in Afghanistan fell by 22% to 123,000 hectares and opium production fell by 10 percent to 6,900 metric tons (mt). Much of this decline in cultivation was driven by market forces largely unrelated to policy: After several years of massive overproduction in Afghanistan that surpassed the estimated global market for opiates by almost three times, opium prices were bound to decline. Even at 6,900 mt, production still remains twice as high as world demand, leading to speculation that someone somewhere is stockpiling opiates.

More significant, the persistence of high production betrays the ineffectiveness of simplistic policies, such as premature forced eradication before alternative livelihoods are in place, which since 2004 (until the new Obama strategy) was the core of the counternarcotics policy in Afghanistan. Policies that fail to address the complex and multiple structural drivers of cultivation and ignore the security and economic needs of the populations dependent on poppy cultivation generate vastly counterproductive effects with respect to not only counternarcotics efforts, but also counterinsurgency, stabilization and state building.

The eastern Afghan province of Nangarhar provides a telling example. For decades, Nangarhar has been one of the dominant sources of opium poppy. But over the past two years, as a result of governor Gul Agha Shirzai’s suppression efforts—including bans on cultivation, forced eradication, imprisonment of violators and claims that NATO would bomb the houses of those who cultivate poppy or keep opium—cultivation declined to very low numbers. This has been hailed as a major success to be emulated throughout Afghanistan.

In fact, the economic and security consequences were highly undesirable. The ban greatly impoverished many, causing household incomes to fall 90% for many and driving many into debt. As legal economic alternatives failed to materialize, many coped by resorting to crime, such as kidnapping and robberies. Others sought employment in the poppy fields of Helmand, yet others migrated to Pakistan where they frequently ended up recruited by the Taliban. The population became deeply alienated from the government, resorting to strikes and attacks on government forces. Districts that were economically hit especially severely, such as Khogiani, Achin and Shinwar, have become no-go zones for the Afghan government and NGOs. Although those tribal areas have historically been opposed to the Taliban, the Taliban mobilization there has taken off to an unprecedented degree. The populations began allowing the Taliban to cross over from Pakistan, and U.S. military personnel operating in that region indicate that intelligence provision to Afghan forces and NATO has almost dried up. Tribal elders who supported the ban became discredited, and the collapse of their legitimacy is providing an opportunity for the Taliban to insert itself into the decision-making structures of those areas. And all such previous bans in the province, including in 2005, turned out to be unsustainable in the absence of legal economic alternatives. Thus, after the 2005 ban, for example, poppy cultivation inevitably swung back.

The Ingredients of Success

Security
The prerequisite for success with respect to narcotics is security, i.e. sustained state control of territory. Without it, Afghanistan cannot be stabilized and the state strengthened; nor can counternarcotics policies be effective. Whether one adopts iron-fisted eradication or sustainable rural development as the core of a counternarcotics policy, security is essential. Without security first, counternarcotics efforts have not yet succeeded anywhere. Suppression without alternative livelihoods in place requires firm control of the entire territory to prevent illicit crop displacement and harsh suppression of the population dependent on illicit crops. Apart from being problematic with respect to human rights, this harsh approach is also very costly politically. Rural development requires security, otherwise investment will not come in, the population will not make risky long-term investments in legal crops and structural drivers of cultivation will not be effectively addressed. Development under a hail of bullets simply does not work, and in the context of insecurity, illicit economies persist and dominate.

Nor have counternarcotics policies, such as eradication or interdiction, succeeded in bankrupting or severely weakening any belligerent groups profiting from drugs anywhere in the world. Not in China, Thailand, Burma, Peru, Lebanon or even Colombia. Instead, they cement the bonds between marginalized populations dependent on illicit crops and belligerents plus severely reduce human intelligence flows to the counterinsurgent forces.

But counterinsurgent forces can prevail against insurgents and terrorists without stopping or reducing the terrorists’ drug-based financial inflows—either by increasing their own forces and resources vis-à-vis the belligerents or by adopting a smarter strategy that is either militarily more effective or wins the hearts and minds. This was the case in China, Thailand, Burma, and Peru where counterinsurgents succeeded without eradication. Evidence that counterinsurgent forces can prevail without bankrupting the belligerents through eradication also holds in the case of Colombia where the FARC has been weakened militarily not because of the aerial spraying of coca fields, but in spite of it. Today, more coca is grown there than at the beginning of Plan Colombia; but as a result of U.S. resources and training, Colombian forces were capable of greatly weakening the FARC even though forced eradication virtually eliminated human intelligence from the population to the government.

Interdiction with the Right Focus
The broad focus of the new counternarcotics strategy on interdiction is well placed, but interdiction’s effectiveness will depend on its objectives and execution. Just like eradication, interdiction will not succeed in bankrupting the Taliban. The Taliban has many other sources of income, including donations from Pakistan and the Middle East, taxation of legal economic activity, smuggling with legal goods, wildlife and illicit logging. In fact, it rebuilt itself in Pakistan between 2002 and 2004 without access to the poppy economy. Overall, drug interdiction has a very poor record in substantially curtailing belligerents’ income, with only a few successes registered in, for example, highly localized settings in Colombia and Peru.

Instead, the objective of the policy should be to reduce the coercive and corrupting power of organized crime groups. But achieving that requires a well-designed policy and a great deal of intelligence. Previous interdiction efforts in Afghanistan have in fact had the opposite effect: they eliminated small traders and consolidated the power of big traffickers, giving rise to the vertical integration of the industry. They also strengthened the bonds between some traffickers and the Taliban (although many traffickers continue to operate independently or are linked to the government).

Large-scale interdiction that targets entire networks and seeks to eliminate local demand for opium from local traders, which some are arguing for, is extraordinarily resource-intensive given the structure of the Afghan opium industry. Prioritization will need to be given to devoting scarce resources to drug interdiction or directly to counterinsurgency. The odds of success are not high. But even if such an interdiction strategy did succeed in shutting down local demand, the policy would become counterproductive since in local settings its effects would approximate the effects of eradication, thus once again alienating the population. Such large-scale interdiction is thus not currently appropriate for Afghanistan.

But even the NATO-led selective interdiction of targeting designated Taliban-linked traffickers (the United States has identified fifty such traffickers) is not free from pitfalls. First, selective interdiction can actually provide opportunities for the Taliban to directly take over the trafficking role or strengthen the alliance between the remaining traffickers and the Taliban, thus achieving the opposite of what it aims for. In fact, interdiction measures in Peru and Colombia frequently resulted in tightening the belligerents-traffickers nexus and belligerents’ takeover of trafficking.

Second, uncalibrated interdiction can provoke intense turf wars among the remaining traffickers, thus intensifying violence in the country and muddling the battlefield picture by introducing a new form of conflict. Mexico provides a vivid example of such an undesirable outcome. In the Afghan tribal context, such turf wars can easily become tribal or ethnic warfare.

Third, such selective interdiction can also send the message that the best way to be a trafficker is to be a member of the Afghan government, thus perpetuating a sense of impunity and corruption and undermining long-term state building and legitimacy.

Finally, the effectiveness of interdiction is to a great extent dependent on the quality of rule of law in Afghanistan plus the capacity and quality of the justice and corrections systems, all of which are woefully lacking in Afghanistan and are deeply corrupt.

Comprehensive Rural Development
Rural development appropriately lies at the core of the new strategy because, despite the enormous challenges, it has the best chance to effectively and sustainably strengthen the Afghan state and reduce the narcotics economy. But for rural development to do that, it needs to be conceived as broad-based social and economic development that focuses on improvements in human capital—including health care and education—and addresses all of the structural drivers of opium poppy cultivation. In Afghanistan, these drivers include insecurity; lack of physical infrastructure (such as roads), electrification and irrigations systems; lack of microcredit; lack of processing facilities; and the absence of value-added chains and assured markets. They also include lack of land titles and, increasingly, the fact that land rent by sharecroppers has become dependent on opium poppy cultivation as land concentration has increased over the past eight years. Poppy cultivation and harvesting are also very labor-intensive, thus offering employment opportunities unparalleled in the context of Afghanistan’s economy.

The price-profitability of poppy in comparison to other crops is only one of the drivers and frequently not the most important one. Without other structural drivers being addressed, farmers will not switch to licit crops even if they fetch more money than the illicit ones. By the same token, however, farmers are frequently willing to sacrifice some profit and forgo illicit crop cultivation as long as the licit alternatives bring them sufficient income and address all of the structural drivers, including the insecurity to which farmers are exposed in illicit economies.

Unfortunately, the wheat distribution program that was the core of rural development in Afghanistan last year (and that is slated to be its key component this year) is likely to be woefully ineffective for several reasons. First, in 2008, the program was based solely on an unusually high price ratio of wheat to poppy, driven by poppy overproduction and a global shortage of wheat. However, this price ratio is unlikely to hold; Afghanistan’s wheat prices are dictated anyway by surrounding markets, such as Pakistan and Kazakhstan. Second, the program did nothing to address the structural drivers. In fact, it had counterproductive effects because the free distribution of wheat undermined local markets in seeds. Afghan farmers can obtain seeds; their challenge lies in how to obtain profit afterwards. Thus, some sold the wheat seed instead of cultivating it. Third, those who actually cultivated wheat frequently did so not for profit, but for subsistence to minimize costs of buying cereals on the market. In fact, because of land distribution issues, many Afghan farmers do not have access to enough land to cover even their subsistence needs with wheat monocropping. A key lesson from alternative development over the past thirty years is that monocropping substitution strategies are particularly ineffective. Fourth, if all of current poppy farmers switched to wheat cultivation, Afghanistan would experience a great increase in unemployment since wheat cultivation employs 88% less labor than poppy cultivation and harvesting do.

Instead of wheat, rural development in Afghanistan needs to emphasize diversified high-value, high-labor-intensive crops, such as fruits, vegetables and specialty items like saffron. Generating lasting off-farm income opportunities will also be important, but even more challenging than jump-starting legal agromarkets.

After eight years of underresourcing and neglecting agriculture development, the new counternarcotics policy’s focus on the farm is appropriate. But the new strategy needs to take care not to throw away the baby with the bath water. The effort still needs to include developing value-added chains and assured internal and external markets plus enabling sustained access to them. Once again, thirty years of history of alternative livelihoods show that without value-added chains and accessible markets even productive legal farms become unsustainable and farmers revert back to illicit crops.

Finally, rural development requires time. Perhaps in no country in the world since Mao wiped out poppy cultivation in China in the 1950s did counternarcotics efforts face such enormous challenges as they do in Afghanistan—in terms of the scale of the illicit economy, its centrality to the overall economy of the country and hence its vast marco- and micro-economic and political effects, the underdevelopment of the country and its human capital and the paucity of viable economic alternatives. Even under much more auspicious circumstances along all the above dimensions, counternarcotics rural development in Thailand took thirty years.

Conclusion

Clearly, there is a need to quickly bring some economic, social and rule of law improvements to the lives of the Afghan people. Without such quick, visible and sustainable change, it will become impossible to rebuild the confidence of the Afghan people in the future, harness their remaining aspirations and to persuade them that the central state with support of the international community is preferable to the Taliban or local warlord- or tribal-based fiefdoms. But there is an equal need to urge strategic patience in the United States—both for counterinsurgency and for counternarcotics.

Eradication can be a part of the mix of counternarcotics policies, but should only be adopted in areas that are free of violent conflict and where sufficient legal economic alternatives are available to the population. Interdiction needs to focus on reducing the coercive and corrupting power of crime groups. Before interdiction measures are undertaken, an analysis of second and third- order effects needs to be conducted. It needs to be carefully calibrated with the strength of law enforcement in Afghanistan to avoid provoking dangerous turf wars, ethnic violence and cementing the relationship between the Taliban and the traffickers. It also needs to target top traffickers linked to the Afghan government. Interdiction needs to encompass building the justice and corrections system in Afghanistan and broad rule of law efforts. Rural development needs to address all structural drivers of poppy cultivation. It needs to focus not only on the farm, but also on value-added chains and assured markets. It needs to emphasize diversified high-value, high-labor intensive crops, and not center on wheat.

Evaluations of counternarcotics policies need to back away from simplistic and inappropriate measures, such as the numbers of hectares eradicated or traffickers caught. Instead, the measures need to encompass the complexity of the issue, including, size of areas cultivated with licit as well as illicit crops, human development indexes, levels of education, the number of resource-poor farmers dependent on illicit crops for basic subsistence or vulnerable to poverty-driven participation in illicit economies, food security, availability of legal microcredit, prevalence of land titles and accessibility of land, infrastructure density and cost of infrastructure use (such as road tolls), availability of non-belligerent dispute resolution and arbitrage mechanisms, quality of property rights, prevalence of value-added chains, and accessibility of markets. The United States and its allies must reduce public expectations for quick fixes and dedicate increased resources to rural development for a long time. Although U.S. forces do not need to stay in Afghanistan for decades, economic development will take that long.

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On September 30, 2011, the U.S.-born radical Islamic cleric, Anwar al-Awlaki, was killed by an American drone strike in Yemen, marking the first extra-judicial killing by the United States government against a U.S. citizen. Placed at the top of a CIA kill list in 2010 by the Obama administration, al-Awlaki was known for his intimate involvement in multiple al-Qaida terrorist plots against U.S. citizens, including the 2009 Christmas Day airline bombing attempt in Detroit and the 2010 plot to blow up U.S.-bound cargo planes. His calls for violent jihad remain prominent on the Internet, and his influence has turned up in many cases since his death, including the Boston Marathon bombing of 2013 and the Charlie Hebdo shootings in Paris early this year. In a new book, “Objective Troy: A Terrorist, A President, and the Rise of the Drone” (Crown, 2015), The New York Times national security reporter Scott Shane, drawing on in-depth field research in Yemen and interviews with U.S. government officials, charts the intimate details of the life and death of al-Awlaki, including his radicalization, his recruiting efforts for al-Qaida in the Arabian Peninsula, and the use of drone strikes by the United States to prosecute its counterterrorism goals.

On September 17, the Intelligence Project hosted Shane to examine the roles played by al-Awlaki in al-Qaida plots against the United States, al-Awlaki’s continued influence on terrorism, and the current state of al-Qaida today. Brookings Senior Fellow Bruce Riedel, director of the Intelligence Project, provided introductory remarks and moderated the discussion.

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• Anwar al-Awlaki, Yemen, and American counterterrorism policy

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An American drone strike that killed leader of the Afghan Taliban Mullah Akhtar Mohammed Mansour may seem like a fillip for the United States’ ally, the embattled government of Afghanistan’s President Ashraf Ghani. But as Vanda Felbab-Brown writes in a new op-ed for The New York Times, it is unlikely to improve Kabul’s immediate national security problems—and may create more difficulties than it solves.

The White House has argued that because Mansour became opposed to peace talks with the Afghan government, removing him became necessary to facilitate new talks. Yet, as Vanda writes in the op-ed, “the notion that the United States can drone-strike its way through the leadership of the Afghan Taliban until it finds an acceptable interlocutor seems optimistic, at best.”

[T]he notion that the United States can drone-strike its way through the leadership of the Afghan Taliban until it finds an acceptable interlocutor seems optimistic, at best.

Mullah Mansour's death does not inevitably translate into substantial weakening of the Taliban's operational capacity or a reprieve from what is shaping up to be a bloody summer in Afghanistan. Any fragmentation of the Taliban to come does not ipso facto imply stronger Afghan security forces or a reduction of violent conflict. Even if Mansour's demise eventually turns out to be an inflection point in the conflict and the Taliban does seriously fragment, such an outcome may only add complexity to the conflict. A lot of other factors, including crucially Afghan politics, influence the capacity of the Afghan security forces and their battlefield performance.

Nor will Mansour’s death motivate the Taliban to start negotiating. That did not happen when it was revealed last July’s the group’s previous leader and founder, Mullah Mohammad Omar, had died in 2013. To the contrary, the Taliban’s subsequent military push has been its strongest in a decade—with its most violent faction, the Haqqani network, striking the heart of Kabul. Mansour had empowered the violent Haqqanis following Omar’s death as a means to reconsolidate the Taliban, and their continued presence portends future violence. Mansour's successor, Mawlawi Haibatullah Akhundzada, the Taliban’s former minister of justice who loved to issue execution orders, is unlikely to be in a position to negotiate (if he even wants to) for a considerable time as he seeks to gain control and create legitimacy within the movement.

The United States has sent a strong signal to Pakistan, which continues to deny the presence of the Afghan Taliban and the Haqqani network within its borders. Motivated by a fear of provoking the groups against itself, Pakistan continues to show no willingness to take them on, despite the conditions on U.S. aid.

Disrupting the group’s leadership by drone-strike decapitation is tempting militarily. But it can be too blunt an instrument, since negotiations and reconciliation ultimately depend on political processes. In decapitation targeting, the U.S. leadership must think critically about whether the likely successor will be better or worse for the counterinsurgency endgame.

Following U.S. troop withdrawal in 2014, Afghanistan faces an uncertain future. Its fate could be compromised or even commanded by war lords, terrorists or corrupt government officials. Fellow Vanda Felbab-Brown spent time on the ground observing events and talking to a mix of Afghans from high ranking officials to village elders, to merchants to the person on the street. In this four-part video series based on her book, “Aspiration and Ambivalence: Strategies and Realities of Counterinsurgency and State-Building in Afghanistan,” Felbab-Brown offers analysis on an Afghanistan in flux.

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• Vanda Felbab-Brown: Counterinsurgency and State-Building in Afghanistan after 2014
• Vanda Felbab-Brown: The Afghan People Simply Want to Live and Thrive
• Vanda Felbab-Brown: Pakistan Plays a Significant Role in Afghanistan's Future
• Vanda Felbab-Brown: The Choices the U.S. Makes Will Largely Determine Afghanistan's Future

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A conversation with Deputy Secretary of State Antony Blinken

One year after the White House Summit on Countering Violent Extremism, the United States continues to adapt its efforts to blunt the appeal of violent extremism. As part of this effort, the State Department is launching a series of new initiatives to better coordinate the U.S. response to terrorist propaganda and recruitment.

On February 16, the Foreign Policy program at Brookings hosted The Honorable Antony J. Blinken, deputy secretary of state, for a discussion of the United States’ civilian-led initiatives to counter the spread of the Islamic State and other violent extremist groups. Blinken will chart the path forward, to include partnerships with industry and civil society, and outlined the challenges that lie ahead.

Brookings President Strobe Talbott offered welcoming remarks. General John Allen, senior fellow and co-director of the Center for 21st Century Security and Intelligence at Brookings, introduced Deputy Secretary Blinken, and Tamara Cofman Wittes, senior fellow and director of the Center for Middle East Policy at Brookings, joined Deputy Secretary Blinken in conversation following his remarks.

Join the conversation on Twitter using #CVE

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• New frameworks for countering terrorism and violent extremism
• American diplomacy best instrument against extremism
• Islamic State numbers lowest since 2014
• Common denominators of violent extremists
• Progress in Syria against Islamic State

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• New frameworks for countering terrorism and violent extremism

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