Last night, retired lieutenant general Michael Flynn addressed the Republican convention as a headline speaker on the subject of national security. One of Donald Trump’s closest advisors—so much so that he was considered for vice president—Flynn repeated many of the themes found in his new book, The Field of Fight, How We Can Win the Global War Against Radical Islam and Its Allies, which he coauthored with Michael Ledeen. (The book is published by St. Martin’s, which also published mine.)

Written in Flynn’s voice, the book advances two related arguments: First, the U.S. government does not know enough about its enemies because it does not collect enough intelligence, and it refuses to take ideological motivations seriously. Second, our enemies are collaborating in an “international alliance of evil countries and movements that is working to destroy” the United States despite their ideological differences.

Readers will immediately notice a tension between the two ideas. “On the surface,” Flynn admits, “it seems incoherent.” He asks: 

“How can a Communist regime like North Korea embrace a radical Islamist regime like Iran? What about Russia’s Vladimir Putin? He is certainly no jihadi; indeed, Russia has a good deal to fear from radical Islamist groups.” 

Flynn spends much of the book resolving the contradiction and proving that America’s enemies—North Korea, China, Russia, Iran, Syria, Cuba, Bolivia, Venezuela, Nicaragua, al-Qaida, Hezbollah, and ISIS—are in fact working in concert.

No one who has read classified intelligence or studied international relations will balk at the idea that unlikely friendships are formed against a common enemy. As Flynn observes, the revolutionary Shiite government in Tehran cooperates with nationalist Russia and communist North Korea; it has also turned a blind eye (at the very least) to al-Qaida’s Sunni operatives in Iran and used them bargaining chips when negotiating with Osama bin Laden and the United States. 

Flynn argues that this is more than “an alliance of convenience.” Rather, the United States’ enemies share “a contempt for democracy and an agreement—by all the members of the enemy alliance—that dictatorship is a superior way to run a country, an empire, or a caliphate.” Their shared goals of maximizing dictatorship and minimizing U.S. interference override their substantial ideological differences. Consequently, the U.S. government must work to destroy the alliance by “removing the sickening chokehold of tyranny, dictatorships, and Radical Islamist regimes.” Its failure to do so over the past decades gravely imperils the United States, he contends.

The book thus offers two very different views of how to exercise American power abroad: spread democracies or stand with friendly strongmen...[P]erhaps it mirrors the confusion in the Republican establishment over the direction of conservative foreign policy.

Some of Flynn’s evidence for the alliance diverts into the conspiratorial—I’ve seen nothing credible to back up his assertion that the Iranians were behind the 1979 takeover of the Grand Mosque in Mecca by Sunni apocalypticists. And there’s an important difference between the territorially-bounded ambitions of Iran, Russia, and North Korea, on the one hand, and ISIS’s desire to conquer the world on the other; the former makes alliances of convenience easier than the latter. Still, Flynn would basically be a neocon if he stuck with his core argument: tyrannies of all stripes are arrayed against the United States so the United States should destroy them.

But some tyrannies are less worthy of destruction than others. In fact, Flynn argues there’s a category of despot that should be excluded from his principle, the “friendly tyrants” like President Abdel-Fatah el-Sissi in Egypt and former president Zine Ben Ali in Tunisia. Saddam Hussein should not have been toppled, Flynn argues, and even Russia could become an “ideal partner for fighting Radical Islam” if only it would come to its senses about the threat of “Radical Islam.” Taken alone, these arguments would make Flynn realist, not a neocon. 

The book thus offers two very different views of how to exercise American power abroad: spread democracies or stand with friendly strongmen. Neither is a sure path to security. Spreading democracy through the wrong means can bring to power regimes that are even more hostile and authoritarian; standing with strongmen risks the same. Absent some principle higher than just democracy or security for their own sakes, the reader is unable to decide between Flynn’s contradictory perspectives and judge when their benefits are worth the risks. 

It’s strange to find a book about strategy so at odds with itself. Perhaps the dissonance is due to the co-authors’ divergent views (Ledeen is a neocon and Flynn is comfortable dining with Putin.) Or perhaps it mirrors the confusion in the Republican establishment over the direction of conservative foreign policy. Whatever the case, the muddled argument offered in The Field of Fight demonstrates how hard it is to overcome ideological differences to ally against a common foe, regardless of whether that alliance is one of convenience or conviction. 

Editors’ Note: Trump’s explanation of the economics of America’s security alliances misses several core realities, argues Michael O’Hanlon. The benefits of certain alliances can be debated—but they hardly constitute the wholesale drain on American coffers that he has made them out to be. This article was originally published on The National Interest.

In his April 27 foreign-policy speech in Washington, Donald Trump leveled a number of critiques at U.S. allies around the world. He began to flesh out his now-familiar critiques of how America’s many allies and security partners—which number about sixty around the world—fail to do their fair share for the common defense.

It is only fair to acknowledge that some of Trump’s arguments about military burden sharing have merit. Most notably, America dramatically outspends most allies on its armed forces. Of course, the United States has the largest economy of any Western ally and thus, rather naturally, the largest defense budget by far. But relative to GDP, its contributions are still disproportionate. The United States spends about 3 percent of gross domestic product on its military. NATO allies are pledged to devote 2 percent of GDP each to their armed forces, but the alliance average is less than 1.4 percent. Only the UK, France, Poland, Greece, and Estonia are near or above 2 percent. Germany is at just 1.1 percent of GDP; Italy and the Netherlands and Turkey check in at 1.2 percent; Belgium and Canada do not even reach 1.0 percent. Yes, some of these countries contribute impressively—more than the United States does, relative to national economic strength—in areas such as development assistance and refugee receptivity, but Trump still has a fair point on this basic and important measure of military preparedness.

On balance, however, Trump’s explanation of the economics of America’s security alliances misses several core realities. The benefits of certain alliances can be debated—but they hardly constitute the wholesale drain on American coffers that he has made them out to be.

Trump’s explanation of the economics of America’s security alliances misses several core realities.

First and foremost, counting the United States as well, the broad coalition of U.S.-led Western alliances accounts for some two-thirds of world GDP and two-thirds of global military spending. This situation is exceedingly advantageous to America. Never before in history has such a powerful strategic block of countries been created, especially in the absence of a clear central threat. Of course, America’s allies do not always do as it would wish. But today’s situation is far better than having two or more rivalrous groups of strong countries jostling for position with each other, and potentially engaging in arms races or open conflict.

In terms of military burden sharing per se, other major alliances and security partnerships do a bit better than NATO, on average. In East Asia, South Korea devotes roughly 2.5 percent of GDP to its military. Taiwan and Australia are close to 2 percent. Japan is at 1.0 percent of GDP—but Washington has favored this level for decades itself, out of worry that higher spending could cause counterreactions among East Asian states fearing (rightly or wrongly) a return to Japanese militarism. In the Middle East, most of America’s security partners spend well over 5 percent of GDP on their militaries—for example, 6 percent for Israel, and more than 12 percent each for Iraq and Saudi Arabia.

The United States does not squander huge sums of money basing troops on the territories of its wealthy allies. The United States may spend $10 billion a year at most basing forces in key industrial or Western states—Japan, Korea and Australia in the Pacific region; Germany, Italy, and the UK in particular in Europe. That is only 2 percent of the defense budget. And of that $10 billion, half or more is paid by the host nations themselves. (The situation is different in places like Afghanistan, where specific crises or conflicts have led to more recent deployments of U.S. firepower, and where foreign basing is in fact quite expensive.)

Foreign basing of American forces can often save the United States money.

Foreign basing of American forces can often save the United States money. For example, homeporting an aircraft carrier battle group in Japan obviates the need to have perhaps three more carrier battle groups in the U.S. Navy’s overall fleet (at an investment cost approaching $50 billion) to sustain the same level of presence in the broader western Pacific region. U.S. airfields in Germany facilitate deployments to the Middle East and Afghanistan; the alternative to such bases could well be a need for huge additional numbers of refueling aircraft.

Returning to the original argument: Trump is indeed right that the United States spends a great deal of its large defense budget to defend allies abroad. It is tough to attribute specific amounts to each region, because America’s military forces are flexible. Most are based in the United States in peacetime; most can swing east or west in times of need. But in broad terms, it is not unreasonable to divide up America’s $600 billion defense budget today into roughly four major categories: central defense needs (such as research and development, homeland security, global intelligence assets and operations), forces for Europe, forces for the Asia-Pacific and forces for the broader Middle East. This logic should not be taken too literally, but one could apportion roughly $100 billion to $200 billion for each of these four main purposes of U.S. military power.

In theory, Trump could propose eliminating the forces and defense expenditures that America devotes to any of these key strategic regions where local allies do not wind up doing their fair share, as he has insisted they must. With such a bold stroke, for example, one could imagine pulling the United States out of NATO and reducing the $600 billion annual defense budget to something less than $500 billion. However, Trump says that America’s military should be built up regardless of what happens with these various key alliances, arguing that spending on the nation’s armed forces is one of the most appealing possible investments the country could make. I tend to agree with that latter point—but it contradicts the earlier proposal to scale back U.S. defense spending for any region that shirks its own duties.

The verdict is simple: Trump raises a couple of valid specific critiques about alliance burden sharing in the world today. But he gets several specific points wrong, and misses the big picture: on balance, America’s alliances help this country to undergird a global security system that has dramatically reduced the prevalence of interstate war in modern times, while currently costing the country only 3 percent of its gross domestic product. To paraphrase Trump himself, this is a very good investment—and one that the U.S. global system of alliances and bases does much to make possible.

Presumptive Republican presidential nominee Donald Trump’s idea to withdraw American forces from Asia—letting allies like Japan and South Korea fend for themselves, including possibly by acquiring nuclear weapons—is fundamentally unsound, as I’ve written in a Wall Street Journal op-ed.

Among the many dangers of preemptively pulling American forces out of Japan and South Korea, including an increased risk of war between Japan and China and a serious blow to the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty, such a move would heighten the threat of war between China and Taiwan. The possibility that the United States would dismantle its Asia security framework could unsettle Taiwan enough that it would pursue a nuclear deterrent against China, as it has considered doing in the past—despite China indicating that such an act itself could be a pathway to war. And without bases in Japan, the United States could not as easily deter China from potential military attacks on Taiwan. 

Trump’s proposed Asia policy could take the United States and its partners down a very dangerous road. It’s an experiment best not to run.

Editors’ Note: Though our allies could do more, the United States benefits not just from military spending, write Kathleen Hicks and Michael O’Hanlon. U.S. allies are not just an advantage for America; they also are the central characteristic of its global leadership. This post originally appeared on USA Today.

Donald Trump questions the value of America's alliances, and at one level it must be acknowledged that he has a point. There is not enough burden-sharing.

Most starkly, the United States spends 3 percent of gross domestic product on its armed forces, while the rest of NATO averages 1.4 percent of GDP even after agreeing formally to a 2 percent target. And the consequences are natural—for example, at the peak of the Afghanistan war, the U.S. provided 100,000 troops to the mission while the rest of NATO managed only about 35,000.

[W]hatever the imperfections of America's allies, it is unconvincing to view them as a drain on the country.

But whatever the imperfections of America's allies, it is unconvincing to view them as a drain on the country. On balance, they are not just an advantage for America; they also are the central characteristic of its global leadership. Russia and China are blessed with the likes of Belarus and North Korea as their formal security partners. Meanwhile, America has nearly 60, most of them among the world's dominant technological and economic powers. Two-thirds of global GDP and two-thirds of global military spending is found within the broad, U.S.-led Western security coalition. This is unprecedented in the history of the world, especially in the absence of a clear agreed threat that would motivate such an alignment.

The stakes are very high. Trump is apparently willing to disband NATO as well as our key Asian alliances, and to withdraw from the Middle East as well—a "Trexit." At risk is a core principle of America's post-World War II strategy—that trying to stay out of others’ business did not work and, in fact, helped lead to the world wars. Trump in particular seems to reject the core elements of America’s strengths in the world market and international security system. With the tumult roiling Europe today, it is worth reviewing the basics on why our unparalleled alliance structure pays off.

Allies are not all alike. Although our Western European allies generally under-invest in common defense objectives, our Middle East partners and several in Asia do far better. The Middle East allies spend considerably more than the NATO members; South Korea comes in at about 2.5 percent, with Australia at 2 percent. Moreover, contrary to conventional wisdom, the U.S. does not squander huge sums of money basing troops on the territories of its wealthy allies. According to RAND analyses and our own estimates, it costs less than $10 billion a year to keep U.S. forces in key industrial nations. That amounts to less than 2 percent of the defense budget. And of that nearly $10 billion, half or more is paid by the host nations themselves.

Moreover, basing those U.S. forces abroad can be more efficient than keeping them at home, allowing a modestly smaller force to do the same job in some cases (as with the aircraft carrier based in Japan, for example)—saving substantially more than $10 billion annually, in fact.

Military might and spending are not the only measure of alliance contributions to security. It is worth remembering that many wealthy allies spend a lot more of their national wealth on development aid and refugee resettlement than does the United States—on average, in the range of 0.5 percent of GDP more than we do, which is real money even measured against the sizes of our military budgets. NATO allies also commit much more to United Nations peacekeeping missions than we do—roughly 10,000 troops, plus or minus, in recent decades. While they did not match us in Afghanistan, they collectively suffered more than 1,000 fatalities and have stuck with the mission for 15 long, hard years.

Those who question the basic value of our alliances or engagement overseas go too far.

Nor is it all about military power. European members of NATO are absorbing the greatest costs and risks in applying sanctions on Russia over its behavior in Ukraine. The U.S. tally is not even a 10th of the European Union's Russian trade. Europe was also collectively crucial in applying sanctions on Iran.

Perhaps this would have happened anyway, without NATO, in the world Trump wants to create. Perhaps not.

It would be a different matter if America had lots of allies that went around causing wars and then expecting U.S. GIs and taxpayers to bail their chestnuts out of the fire once they overreached.

But that is not the case. Since the creation of the U.S. post-World War II alliance system, those few interstate wars that have happened have largely been caused by neutral or adversarial states—North Korea attacking South Korea, Arab states attacking Israel (in the days before many of the former became security partners with the United States), Iraq attacking Iran and Kuwait, China and Vietnam throwing their weight around their neighborhoods in earlier Cold War decades, and Russian President Vladimir Putin redrawing borders in Europe (after decades of the Soviet Union drawing an Iron Curtain across Europe).

In those rare cases where U.S. allies did employ force, as with Pakistan attacking India in earlier eras, or the British and French acting in former colonial states, it was generally understood that America would not help them, and we didn’t.

There are valid critiques about alliance burden-sharing, many of which are universally shared by foreign policy practitioners. Even so, the verdict is simple: Those who question the basic value of our alliances or engagement overseas go too far. In so doing, they distort the big picture. On balance, America’s alliances help this country undergird a global security system that has dramatically reduced the prevalence of war between nations in modern times, while currently costing the country only 3 percent of GDP.

A Trexit would be a disaster for Americans. To paraphrase Trump himself, our international security posture is a very good investment—and one that the U.S. global system of alliances does much to make possible.

One cannot help feeling a bit silly taking seriously the policy proposals of a person who seems not to take policy seriously himself. Donald Trump's policy positions have evolved faster over the years than a teenager's moods. He was for a woman's right to choose; now he is against it. He was for a wealth tax to pay off the national debt before proposing a tax plan that would enrich the wealthy and balloon the national debt. He was for universal health care but opposed to any practical way to achieve it.

Based on his previous flexibility, Trump's here-today proposals may well be gone tomorrow. As a sometime-Democrat, sometime-Republican, sometime-independent, who is now the leading candidate for the Republican presidential nomination, Trump has just issued his latest pronouncements on health care policy. So, what the hell, let's give them more respect than he has given his own past policy statements.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, those earlier pronouncements are notable for their detachment from fact and lack of internal logic. The one-time supporter of universal health care now joins other candidates in his newly-embraced party in calling for repeal of the only serious legislative attempt in American history to move toward universal coverage, the Affordable Care Act. Among his stated reasons for repeal, he alleges that the act has "resulted in runaway costs," promoted health care rationing, reduced competition and narrowed choice.

Each of these statements is clearly and demonstrably false. Health care spending per person has grown less rapidly in the six years since the Affordable Care Act was enacted than in any corresponding period in the last four decades. There is now less health care rationing than at any time in living memory, if the term rationing includes denial of care because it is unaffordable. Rationing because of unaffordability is certainly down for the more than 20 million people who are newly insured because of the Affordable Care Act. Hospital re-admissions, a standard indicator of low quality, are down, and the health care exchanges that Trump now says he would abolish, but that resemble the "health marts" he once espoused, have brought more choice to individual shoppers than private employers now offer or ever offered their workers.

Trump's proposed alternative to the Affordable Care Act is even worse than his criticism of it. He would retain the highly popular provision in the act that bars insurance companies from denying people coverage because of preexisting conditions, a practice all too common in the years before the health care law. But he would do away with two other provisions of the Affordable Care Act that are essential to make that reform sustainable: the mandate that people carry insurance and the financial assistance to make that requirement feasible for people of modest means.

Without those last two provisions, barring insurers from using preexisting conditions to jack up premiums or deny coverage would destroy the insurance market. Why? Because without the mandate and the financial aid, people would have powerful financial incentives to wait until they were seriously ill to buy insurance. They could safely do so, confident that some insurer would have to sell them coverage as soon as they became ill. Insurers that set affordable prices would go broke. If insurers set prices high enough to cover costs, few customers could afford them.

In simple terms, Trump's promise to bar insurers from using preexisting conditions to screen customers but simultaneously to scrap the companion provisions that make the bar feasible is either the fraudulent offer of a huckster who takes voters for fools, or clear evidence of stunning ignorance about how insurance works. Take your pick.

Unfortunately, none of the other Republican candidates offers a plan demonstrably superior to Trump's. All begin by calling for repeal and replacement of the Affordable Care Act. But none has yet advanced a well-crafted replacement.

It is not that the Affordable Care Act is perfect legislation. It isn't. But, as the old saying goes, you can't beat something with nothing. And so far as health care reform is concerned, nothing is what the Republican candidates now have on offer.

Editor's note: This piece originally appeared in U.S. News and World Report.

A 2010 publication of the U.S. Geological Survey caused major excitement in Cyprus, an island that at the time was suffering from the economic collapse of its neighbor and major trading partner, Greece. According to the publication, the seabed of the Eastern Mediterranean could contain up to 120 trillion cubic feet (tcf) of natural gas.3 Three years later, the Cypriot administration has high hopes that natural gas exports may get Cyprus—the third smallest European Union member state—back on its feet, after its own financial collapse in 2012. Unfortunately for the Cypriots, the reality on the ground is sobering, and it is currently unclear whether Cyprus will become a producer, or an exporter, of natural gas. Around Cyprus, other countries hope to benefit from the energy potential as well, including Israel, Lebanon and the Palestinian Authority. In the Israeli Exclusive Economic Zone (EEZ), in particular, substantial reserves of natural gas have been found, though the verdict is out whether these will in fact all be produced.

Exploration of Cyprus’s offshore concessions is at an early stage. Energy majors such as ENI and Total are among the first to explore possible gas (and oil) reserves and they expect results not before 2015. To date, only two test wells have been drilled by Houston-based Noble Energy. Proven reserves have been downgraded since and are currently estimated to be between 3 and 5 tcf. At this level of reserves, investing in a natural gas liquefaction terminal, which the Cypriot administration has supported, is not economically viable. A better alternative would be to construct a pipeline to Turkey, which has a large and rapidly growing market for natural gas.

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