Miller is a former State Department adviser, past participant in Palestine-Israel diplomacy, and a think-tank analyst now at the Woodrow Wilson Center. I mention him from time to time, both on the blog (see Jan. 15, 2014, and Aug. 24, 2013) and in published pieces. He's good for the occasional sober comment on what power is thinking. His opinion piece on Sunday for CNN is worth a read.
Miller is what one might refer to as an establishment intellectual. In the realm of foreign policy, they influence and/or advise administrations, provide academic credibility, and attend to ideological management. Washington and the private sector could not proceed as they do without support from academia.
I don't mention this in an attempt to be amusing, but CNN's bio paragraph on Miller clarifies that "The opinions expressed in this commentary are his own." They are not. Miller, and those like him, have done very little original thinking on, in this case, the Middle East. What Miller serves up is a textbook recitation of the most fundamental fictions required to maintain US policy orientation; his British predecessors during the height of that empire's global dealings would nod approvingly.
If one surveys US-Middle East relations, very clear patterns emerge. From Truman to Obama, there is a continuity that is hard to miss. There is therefore scant room for debate as to Washington's desire to project power in that region. One can call into question the specifics—oil, arms, politics—but the goals are evident and based on extremely narrow interests. And because of this reality, policy planners cannot simply say out loud what they are doing (this isn't unique to the United States). Power needs a palatable story, and it's advantageous if those telling it are the "best and brightest."
This is Miller's job, and his fluency in changing the subject is on full display in "Welcome to the Muddle East." It's an archetypal specimen.
I'll highlight five points where Miller inverts reality:
1. As he says, "America faces a very inconvenient reality in the Middle East: We're stuck in a kind of Middle East Bermuda Triangle." The language is revealing: "We" are "stuck," and it's a difficulty we must bear.
2. He then points out that "Part of the problem, of course, is us." Our contribution to the problem is our "physical detachment," in that the United States is located on the other side of the world. This detachment has produced "naivete," "arrogance" ("idealism"), and "pragmatism." Put another way: We're too well-meaning for our own good—or the circumstances.
3. The "inconvenient truth" is that the Middle East is "a broken, angry, dysfunctional region." And the Middle East is in this state because of a lack of "leaders," "institutions," "governance," and "moderates." If, as the thinking goes, the problems are internal, then any external factors (if they exist) are negligible.
4. "America will have its hands full in this region for years to come. ... But it must give up any illusion that it can somehow produce solutions." Translation: America is burdened by its virtuous willingness to assist the "broken, angry, dysfunctional region." However, we can't expect much in the way of results (which conveniently leaves our virtue unperturbed).
5. Miller then offers the stern paternal reminder that the Middle East should "start by looking in the mirror. If the region wants to fix itself with America's help, that's the place to start." Whether Miller is on some level aware of what is almost comically obvious here, one can only conjecture.
The inflammatory distortions and racist caricatures that can be heard by different popular commentators on radio and television are harmful; but in some instances they can become self-parody and inadvertently move the conversation in a better direction. The subtlety and polish of those advising and moving in policymaking circles, however, are far more dangerous. They're more dangerous because they function as the voice of reason. They are the custodians of rational opinion. And it's their version of reality that commonly becomes ours.
