Why the hostility to a US exit from Syria?

Why would the Trumps take 24 hours out of their Christmas schedule to visit US troops in Iraq? Let’s hazard some guesses.

One, because, having decided to forego his Florida holiday and remain in Washington during the government shut-down, Donald Trump wanted a break that would still look patriotic. Two, because it was the right thing to do, and previous presidents have made it a tradition to dole out holiday cheer to troops stationed in far-flung places. Three, because almost two years into his presidency, it was becoming embarrassing that Trump had not yet visited US troops abroad.

Well, probably it is all of the above – especially the last. But there is another, more immediate, reason why the US president might have decided to take the first lady and his national security adviser half-way around the world to address US troops at their garrison near Baghdad, and this was the vehemently negative response from the political establishment at home and from US allies in Europe to his announcement that he was ordering US forces back from Syria.

But he did not use his speech in Iraq to back down. He stood by his declared victory against Isis and the Syria withdrawal, it would appear, is still on. Americans, he said in a tweet, would come to appreciate it.

The only concession he made to his critics was to say that if Isis in Syria still proved troublesome, action could be taken from the “forward base” in Iraq (which might not have been what the troops stationed there necessarily had in mind).

By actually going to Iraq and showing the flag, Trump also communicated a couple more messages: first that the president remains commander-in-chief, however many senior officials he might lose – both his defence secretary Jim Mattis, and his special envoy for the international anti-Isis campaign, Brett McGurk, resigned within hours of his Syria announcement. Second that the US is not retreating completely from the wider world or even from the Middle East; it will simply be more selective about what it does.

All of which might appear unremarkable, especially given the unpredictable nature of Donald Trump. So what is the problem? Well, the big question in my mind does not relate to why Trump should want to withdraw US troops from Syria – it was a campaign pledge of his, after all, to interfere less in other countries’ affairs except in direct defence of the US national interest. The main issue is the predominantly negative response that the measure received. It seemed particularly strange coming from Europe, with its generally more Venus-like tastes.

It is understandable, just about, that US politicians, with vivid memories of the attacks of 9/11, who had also supported the interventions in Iraq and Afghanistan, might baulk at the withdrawal of US troops from a Middle Eastern country until the latest source – as they might see it – of the global terrorist threat had been rooted out.

To be sure, Trump had been elected on a promise of less military involvement abroad, but Congressional hawks had for the most part successfully prevented Barack Obama from pursuing a similar agenda, and they seemed to be steering Trump in the same direction. So much for presidential campaign promises if Congress and the related establishment rejects them.

The US military had its own concerns. As Mattis pointed out in his resignation letter, he was unconvinced that the threat from Isis was truly over, and worried about US relations with its allies. These included not only the Europeans who had joined the anti-Isis campaign to a greater or lesser degree, but Syrian and Turkish Kurds who had been in the frontline of the war against Bashar al-Assad’s Syrian government and were now threatened with being cast adrift.

Any territorial or political reward they might have hoped for in a post-war Syria – an autonomous region in the north of Syria, say, or more clout against the Turkish government – could be lost.

These are legitimate concerns. An unreliable ally is no ally at all, and there could indeed be repercussions for Nato and for any future US administration wanting to draw proxies to a favoured cause, whether in the Middle East or elsewhere. But why should the Europeans be so exercised about a US withdrawal from Syria?

While the Russian presence in Syria was legal in UN terms, following a request from the recognised government, the US presence was not. What is more, not one European state drummed up parliamentary support for a military intervention in Syria. The UK came the closest, but when the proposition was put to Parliament, it was defeated – after many MPs had found themselves lobbied by worried voters.

The extent to which the UK, France and Denmark then became involved in Syria – largely with air support and the deployment of special forces – has been kept for the most part under wraps. So, too, has the extent to which anti-Isis activity meshed with anti-Assad activity, and the dubious nature of some of the rebel groups who received western aid and protection.

With Isis and the rebellion against Assad now mostly defeated, why would this not be a good time to scale back such help, which has only been prolonging the bloodshed? Surely it would now make both military and humanitarian sense for this largely covert, expensive, and now counterproductive, intervention to end?

Apparently not, at least not according to France and Germany, who have expressed dismay at Trump’s decision to withdraw. And the Danes, who have also played a role in the anti-Isis campaign in Syria. Interestingly, the tone of UK statements – via the Foreign Office statement and a paragraph appended to a speech by the UN envoy, Karen Pierce – was less cutting, while the content suggested that, for the time being, UK forces, like the French, Germans and Danes, would be fighting on.

So what lies behind Europe’s indignation? At heart, it may reflect continued fears about the US commitment to Europe’s defence under Trump. Those fears seemed to have been dispelled after Trump’s various visits to Europe, but they would now seem to be back – and too soon for either the European allies in Nato or the European Union to have prepared any fall-back.

The other concern – which would be an element also in Washington – might be Russia, and the sense that in giving up on Isis in Syria, the US was also becoming complicit in Assad’s reassertion of power and the extension of Russian influence. In other words, a Russian victory.

But this argument, which can be heard in Washington, comes perilously close to saying that the US has to stay in Syria to keep not only Isis at bay, but also Russia, opening another front in what risks becoming a return to old Cold War proxy conflicts. Trump’s decision to withdraw suggests – as does his whole approach to foreign policy – that this is not what he has in mind. Nor should it be what Europe has in mind either.

Syria is at a point where the western powers must choose whether to cooperate in its future or turn their backs out of resentment for Russia. A US withdrawal could and should be a prelude to a more collaborative approach to post-war Syria, with western help for political restructuring and physical rebuilding.

It may be significant that Trump’s quarrel with Mattis was only partly about Syria and the obligations of alliance; it was also – according to the defence secretary’s letter – about Mattis’s essentially Cold War outlook and the threats he still sees ahead.

As Mattis himself said, Trump needs someone as defence secretary who sees the world as he sees it. That could mean that he will have to skip at least a generation to find someone who is not in thrall either to the Cold War mentality or to the legacy of 9/11. It is a consideration that others, including in Europe, might also bear in mind.