Animosity and Shenanigans

To say the parties don't trust each other is akin to describing the Antarctic as 'a bit nippy'.

"Do you know what the life expectancy of an Obama-Biden yard sign is 'round here?" a Tennessee Democrat asked me last weekend. "Two days. Doesn't matter, though. They just march straight back in here and buy another one, and that's another eight dollars for the campaign."

The odd thing is, I'd heard exactly the same story the previous week. Only that time, it was from a Republican.

To say the parties here don't trust each other is akin to describing the Antarctic as 'a bit nippy'. Each is convinced, completely and whole-heartedly, that the other is trying to screw them. "They're plotting to steal this election like they did in 2000 and they did in 2004," one Democrat said to me last week. When I reacted with surprise - surely the last victory, at least, was fair and square? - she just shook her head, disappointed that I could be so naive. "They stole the election in Ohio," she said firmly.

And it's true, there are plenty of stories of electoral shenanigans circulating. Republicans surrounding polling stations with volunteers in police uniforms, to put black people off voting. Democrats registering Mickey Mouse to vote in Florida. And, in a stunt lifted straight from an old Onion story, Republicans warning voters that, due to overwhelming demand, election day is to be split, and anyone thinking of voting for Obama should come to the polls on November 5th. Both parties are planning to flood polling stations with lawyers.

Yet when activists talk about a friend or parent who's voting for the other guy, they're more likely to roll their eyes indulgently than start foaming at the mouth.

You get the feeling that, when people demonize the other side, they're not talking about the neighbours or family members who happen to disagree with their politics. They're talking about them, these strange, shadowy figures who want to destroy their way of life by taking away their guns and forcing their kids into gay marriage, or, conversely, forcibly baptizing them and sending their kids to war.

Attempts to get past this, and actually understand what the other guys have to say, are depressingly few and far between. One is the Ohio politics blog, run jointly by Obama hugging liberal Kyle Kutuchief and arch conservative Ben Keeler. Despite disagreeing on just about everything, the two of them have, so far, managed to work together without accusing each other of being mentally ill. And both reckon their debates have made their own arguments stronger.

The catch, though, is that they can only do this because they were childhood friends before they were political enemies. "When Kyle called me in 2004 after John Kerry lost, I really felt bad for him. But not that bad," says Keeler. But he adds: "We couldn't have done it if we didn't already know each other."

Kutuchief agrees. "When I was in college, my professors would talk about the great political leaders arguing tooth and nail all day and then going out to have a beer," he says. "That concept seems lost on our generation."

If it wasn't lost, I suspect, this election would need a lot fewer lawyers.

Jonn Elledge is the editor of the New Statesman's sister site CityMetric. He is on Twitter, far too much, as @JonnElledge.

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Battle for Mosul: will this be the end of Islamic State?

The militant group's grip on power is slipping but it has proved resilient in the past.

The battle for Mosul is the latest stage in the long struggle to defeat Islamic State. The group has been around since the late 1990s in one form or another, constantly mutating in response to its environment. Undoubtedly its ejection from Mosul will be a significant moment in the group’s history, but it is unlikely to be its final chapter. The destruction of the group will only be complete when some fundamental changes occur within Iraq and the war in Syria comes to an end.

IS’s roots go back to a training camp established by the militant Islamist Abu Musab al Zarqawi in the late 1990s in Herat, Afghanistan. Founded as an army to overthrow the apostate regimes of the Levant, it fled to northern Iraq in the wake of the US-led invasion of Afghanistan post-9/11 where it re-established itself as a force alongside Ansar al Shariah, a hardline Salafi jihadi organisation.

As American attention shifted from Afghanistan to Iraq, the group was ideally placed to become one of the leading lights in the post-Saddam Iraqi insurgency. Brutally announcing itself to the world in August 2003 with successive attacks on the Jordanian Embassy in Baghdad, the UN headquarters and a Shia shrine in Najaf — the latter being the deadliest attack in Iraq that year with a death toll of 95 — the group grew to assume the mantle of al-Qaeda in Iraq. By 2006 this brand had become somewhat damaged through the brutal sectarian campaign the group waged, and when its founder, Zarqawi, died it sought to reinvent itself as the Mujahedeen Shura Council. This incarnation did not last long either, and eventually it assumed the title of the Islamic State of Iraq (ISI), alongside a more Iraqi leadership.

This was the start of a diffcult period in the group's history. Its excesses in Iraq (including indiscriminate slaughter of Shia Muslims to stir sectarian hatred and filmed decapitations of prisoners) lost it local support and led to the tribes in Sunni Iraq rising up and supporting the government in Baghdad's fight back against the group. By 2009, when the west abruptly stopped paying attention and withdrew from Iraq the group was largely perceived as in decline, with the Shia Muslim-led Iraqi government appearing to slowly assert itself more effectively across the country.

The terrorist attacks by the group continued. And the new government started to advance an increasingly sectarian agenda. These two played off each other in a downward spiral that was given a fresh boost of blood when the civil war in Syria erupted in 2011. Drawing on its existing networks (that were leftovers from when Syria was used as a staging point by the organisation to launch attacks into Iraq), the leadership sent a cell to Syria to explore what opportunities existed within the emerging fight there. This cell became the seed that grew into Jabhat al Nusrah and ultimately IS – a label the group adopted when in June 2013 IS leader Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi decided it was time to reveal this link between his Iraqi group and Jabhat al Nusrah. This led to divisions and the breaking up of the two organisations.

For IS, however, it was the beginning of an upward trajectory, building on this division to grow itself substantially in Syria (with Raqqa as its capital) and in 2014 taking over Iraq’s second biggest city of Mosul. We then reach the apex of IS’s success and the biggest expansion of the group yet.

It now seems that this growth had a shelf life of just two-and-a-half years. As the group appears to be losing Mosul, it is likely that we will see the beginning of a period of retraction. But this will not be its end – rather, it will flee back to the hills and the ungoverned spaces in Iraq and Syria from where it will continue a persistent terrorist strategy in both countries. Here it will bide its time until the moment presents itself to rise up. Waiting until the governance in Iraq and Syria fails its people again, the group can paint itself as the protector of Sunnis and once more build on that group's disenfranchisement to win supporters and occupy a space vacated by local governments.

IS's grip on power might currently be slipping but as history has shown, it has waxed and waned depending on the context it is operating in. We are now going to see a period of withdrawal, but unless attention is paid by the global community, it will expand again in the future.

Raffaello Pantucci is Director of International Security Studies at the Royal United Services Institute (RUSI). Visit his website at