On the other hand, Zinni was excited about being a general. "So you've just gotta go over there two years and gut it out," he told himself, "and hope you get something real when you come back."

Later, after he was in Europe actually witnessing the landslide of transformations following the end of the Soviet Union, he began to have a very different take on his new job. "This place is changing," he told himself then. "It's getting exciting over here. We're seeing something entirely significant taking place."

Before going to EUCOM, Zinni attended the Capstone course for new one-stars at the National Defense University in Washington.

THE COLLPSE of the Soviet Empire came with a whimper. The bangs came later-almost always in unexpected places . . . as unexpected as the actual end of the empire. No one had predicted it. It happened so fast that even the most savvy foreign policy and intelligence professionals failed to get a handle on the specific events, much less to grasp their bigger picture implications. The disintegration started in '89 when Gorbachev's perestroika first let the demons out of the bottle. Later, Boris Yeltsin tried to pick up the pieces, but with limited success. What had once been the huge, proud, and powerful USSR had within a year fractured into separate republics, including Russia, Ukraine, Belarus, Georgia, the Baltics, and the Stans. of the Soviet Empire came with a whimper. The bangs came later-almost always in unexpected places . . . as unexpected as the actual end of the empire. No one had predicted it. It happened so fast that even the most savvy foreign policy and intelligence professionals failed to get a handle on the specific events, much less to grasp their bigger picture implications. The disintegration started in '89 when Gorbachev's perestroika first let the demons out of the bottle. Later, Boris Yeltsin tried to pick up the pieces, but with limited success. What had once been the huge, proud, and powerful USSR had within a year fractured into separate republics, including Russia, Ukraine, Belarus, Georgia, the Baltics, and the Stans.

The Soviet rapid free-fall collapse caused a series of quick reactions from the Western powers. Since the collapse was unforeseen, the reactions were unplanned-and inadequate. It was astonishing that the collapse came as such a surprise . . . or that none of the Western leaders had thought through what to do if containment actually worked and the Soviet Union imploded. "But here we were," says Tony Zinni, "scrambling to stay ahead of remarkable events that surprised us virtually every day."

This was not the hoped-for replacement of a worn-out and discredited communist structure with a new, better democratic and free-market one. The fall was far messier than that. True, the old structures had mostly vanished; but their replacements are even now nearly fifteen years later only still emerging. n.o.body in or out of the former Soviet Union (FSU) had any idea about what had to be done next. So not very much was done.

When the Soviet Empire slouched off the world's stage, there was a certain amount of euphoria (many wrongly imagined, for example, that its departure would remove the nuclear threat) and even more relief. "Thank G.o.d," Americans sighed, "the Cold War is over. The Big World will take care of itself. We no longer need the vast, powerful military presence that kept the Evil Empire checked. Peace will bring incredible material dividends. Now we can go about our smaller, private business and get on with our personal lives. Everybody's going to be secure . . . and happy."

President Bush announced the emergence of a New World Order . . . without defining it.

It's hard to find anybody then who realized that the fifty-year-old bipolar world structure-for all the risks and dangers it represented-had kept the lid on myriad and terrible demons . . . demons that made the ones Gorbachev had let loose almost seem harmless as spaniels.

Since conflict in the first and second world heartlands had been unacceptable, the superpower compet.i.tion had mostly played out in the third world peripheries, where the norm among governing regimes was illegitimacy, instability, and corruption. No problem, these regimes could be propped up, bought off, or provided with military backing by one or the other superpower, in exchange for their support. Thus the world's balance was maintained . . . though at the price of denying better lives to third world peoples. No matter. They didn't have much to live for anyway.

But the long-suppressed demons of ethnic and national compet.i.tions and ancient seething hatreds and blood feuds remained alive. Once the lid was removed and the demons released, n.o.body was prepared to deal with them.

The Balkans exploded. The Horn of Africa. The Middle East. Iraq. West Africa. Rwanda. Zaire-Congo. Afghanistan. The Philippines. Colombia . . . And this is only a partial list.

THE CAPSTONE course is designed to give new brigadier generals and admirals course is designed to give new brigadier generals and admirals35 a heads-up on major strategic and national security policy. It lasts a relatively short six weeks. Part of the time is spent in study and seminars. Part of the time is spent with very senior leadership in Washington. And part of the time is spent in travel, talking with CINCs and other combatant commanders. a heads-up on major strategic and national security policy. It lasts a relatively short six weeks. Part of the time is spent in study and seminars. Part of the time is spent with very senior leadership in Washington. And part of the time is spent in travel, talking with CINCs and other combatant commanders.

Zinni's Capstone cla.s.s trip, in March, took him and a handful of his Capstone colleagues to Europe-to Naples, where there's a NATO and U.S. naval command; to Brussels and NATO headquarters in Belgium; to Germany and to EUCOM headquarters in Stuttgart; to Army headquarters in Heidelberg; to Air Force headquarters at Ramstein; and to Berlin. Their briefings at these commands all indicated that the impending collapse of the Soviet Union was about to unleash tremendous changes-changes that U.S. forces in Europe were having difficulty understanding or accepting. The rapidly unfolding events in Eastern Europe and the Soviet Union were occurring so fast that U.S. and NATO leaders could neither grasp their implications nor make studied adjustments to them.

During their visit to Berlin, the Capstone team's escort, a feisty second lieutenant from the U.S. Berlin Brigade, suggested an excursion through the recently abandoned Checkpoint Charlie into East Berlin. At that time, this was a bold idea. The famous security barrier that controlled access between East and West Berlin had ceased operation, there no longer being a reason for it. But its absence had left a rules vacuum. n.o.body knew what regulations-if any-governed travel between the two parts of the no-longer-divided city. The new flag officers' only guidance: They had to wear their uniforms.

"Is it okay to go across?" the Capstone team asked.

"I don't know," the lieutenant said, "but everything's so confusing now that I doubt anyone will stop us. What's to lose? Let's give it a try."

Though most of the new one-stars were a little concerned about getting stopped or even detained by East German or Russian guards-and about getting chewed out for putting themselves at risk without a good reason-they were unable to resist such a dare from a hard-charging young officer. So they piled into a van and headed for Checkpoint Charlie, where, to their astonishment, they found no guards. It was like the ghost of an old Cold War movie set.

On the other side, the main streets of East Berlin-Unter den Linden and Karl-Marx-Allee-offered a facade of modernity, an East German communist Potemkin village. But turning off the showplace avenues revealed the real differences between East and West-pockmarked walls still bearing bullet scars from the war-while more recent buildings were cheap and ugly Soviet-style cinder block and concrete, run-down and shabby. Instead of the new BMWs, Mercedes, and Audis of the West, they saw small cheap East German Traubis.

The most striking aspect of East Berlin was its quiet. Few people were about; there was no vibrant, urban bustle, as in West Berlin. In fact, there was little evidence of commerce . . . or activity of any kind.

East Berlin was a far cry from a great, modern world city like New York, London, or Paris . . . or its sister to the west. It was a poor, depressed, patched-together relic from the 1950s.

As they were taking all this in, the lieutenant came up with another bright idea. "Let's go find a Russian military compound," he said.

"Sure," the one-stars agreed. "A terrific idea." They were really game by then to push their luck. This was an opportunity they could have only dreamed about before this moment.

They drove around until they found a Russian military facility (they never figured out its function); drove inside; and out of the van stepped a group of American flag officers in uniform, who must have had the same impact on the stunned Russian military personnel and their dependents as squid-people out of a starship. The Americans wandered around the compound for most of the afternoon. During that time, no one spoke to them; there were no greetings, no questions, no challenges, no ideas about what to do with the American "invaders"-shoot them, kiss them, or say h.e.l.lo. There was no decision; nothing was done. The Russians and their families went about their business; the wives pushed their baby carriages or dealt with their children; in the commissary, people pushed their grocery carts and grabbed cans and boxes off the shelves; and without a "by-your-leave," the American officers checked out everything that caught their interest. The only response they got from anybody was a shocked, deer-in-the-headlights look. When the Americans left the compound, the shocked looks followed them out the gate.

On the way back to Checkpoint Charlie, they stopped at a Soviet museum celebrating the fall of Berlin (the surrender had been signed in the building that housed it), and then at the Berlin Wall. "Do you want a piece?" the lieutenant asked, producing a small hammer. The others then chipped souvenir shards from the most powerful symbol of the Cold War.

Zinni had never before felt so close to living history. "It's over," he said to himself, truly realizing it for the first time. "There is no more Soviet Union. It's gone. There is no more Soviet enemy."

He wondered what new shape the world was taking.

IN JUNE 1990, Zinni arrived at EUCOM headquarters, located in Stuttgart at a place called "Patch Barracks," an old Second World War German Army casern taken over by U.S. forces at the end of the war. These had emerged from Hitler's policies during the military buildup that preceded the war: Since he wanted both to hide the buildup and to connect the army closely to the people, he'd built small regimental caserns in towns all across Germany, rather than large, centralized military installations such as those in the U.S. Patch Barracks had originally housed the 7th Panzer Regiment, a moderately sized armored unit. When U.S. Forces took Stuttgart, the casern became known as Patch Barracks, after U.S. General Patch, the commander of the troops who liberated that part of Germany. Zinni arrived at EUCOM headquarters, located in Stuttgart at a place called "Patch Barracks," an old Second World War German Army casern taken over by U.S. forces at the end of the war. These had emerged from Hitler's policies during the military buildup that preceded the war: Since he wanted both to hide the buildup and to connect the army closely to the people, he'd built small regimental caserns in towns all across Germany, rather than large, centralized military installations such as those in the U.S. Patch Barracks had originally housed the 7th Panzer Regiment, a moderately sized armored unit. When U.S. Forces took Stuttgart, the casern became known as Patch Barracks, after U.S. General Patch, the commander of the troops who liberated that part of Germany.

It became EUCOM headquarters when the command was established. The original 1930s vintage stucco-clad barracks were turned into offices. In the '50s and '60s, apartment-type housing and a few individual houses were built on the post, but the majority of the people stationed there lived-as the military puts it-out on the economy (off the base).

EUCOM is the U.S. Unified Command that runs military operations and relations in an area that includes Europe, most of Africa (CENTCOM had the rest), and part of the Middle East (Turkey, Lebanon, Syria, Israel). During the Cold War, its primary focus was NATO support; and the CINC of EUCOM was also the Supreme Allied Commander Europe (SACEUR), the NATO military commander. Except for the occasional African or Middle Eastern crisis, planning and logistics support for the NATO commitment were the priority efforts.

Traditionally, EUCOM has been an Army and Air Force-dominated theater of operations; and up until very recently, this dominance has been reflected in the service affiliation of the top officers.

When Zinni first arrived there, it struck him as odd that the Operations Directorate (J-3) was so heavily dominated by Navy and Marine officers; but he soon realized why: The emphasis in this command had not been on operations (this is not the case in other unified commands, where operations normally are the center of the staff). The difference lay in EUCOM's NATO mission. NATO went to war, and EUCOM was primarily the U.S. base providing NATO with the American wherewithal for that. In consequence, it was not operations but plans (J-5) and logistics (J-4) that were traditionally the key elements in EUCOM. This was reflected in their personnel-primarily Army and Air Force-while the Operations Directorate had come to be predominantly manned by the Navy and Marines.

The operations shop mostly worked out on the edges-perhaps dealing with some minor crisis in Africa or the Mediterranean. It had the standing operating procedures for forming a Crisis Action Team (CAT) and could, in theory, gear up for a battle staff, but they'd never actually been called on for such a large-scale commitment; they'd never had to work twenty-four-hour operations over a long period of time. Suddenly, all that was changing. The NATO confrontation with the Soviet Union and the Warsaw Pact was gone, and the plethora of crises emerging from that were changing both EUCOM and NATO priorities. The Operations Directorate was no longer a sleepy hollow. During Zinni's tour, the J-3 shop was on twenty-four-hour operations virtually the whole time he was there. It became the EUCOM centerpiece.

TONY ZINNI takes up the story: takes up the story:

Since this was my first joint tour, getting used to serving in an environment and culture that wasn't solely Marine Corps required adjustments; but I quickly found that the command was blessed with superb officers from all services. I could not have had better mentors-men who over the next two years entrusted me with the carrying out of several challenging and important missions.

I was particularly impressed with our CINC, General Jack Galvin, USA-probably the finest soldier-statesman I've known . . . the best we've had since George Marshall. Though his talents and accomplishments never got the recognition they deserved (they were probably lost in the rush of events like the Gulf War), if those events had not turned out as they did, he would have had the kind of recognition and stature Marshall enjoys. His vision, his depth of strategic understanding, his insightfulness, his statesmanship, his military competence, and his exceptional intellect were unsurpa.s.sed among CINCs I've known. Just as with Marshall, when you were around him, you sensed you were in the presence of somebody who's really great.

Galvin was a soldier's soldier, older than his peers. An enlisted medic in the Second World War, he had worked his way up through the ranks. When I got to Europe, he had been the CINCEUR for nine years, a long time.

Our deputy CINC was General Jim McCarthy, USAF. McCarthy's a brilliant, high-energy guy, with exceptional organizational skills-qualities I've always admired. But I especially admired his openness . . . he was never set in his ways. He never met a new idea he didn't like; they were all worth pursuing . . . even the wildest schemes would bring an open response: "Well, let's think about that," he'd say. "Let's talk about it."

The other reason he impressed me: He was the first true joint officer I met. The DCINC is a full general, a four-star, the same rank as the CINC. Since CINCEUR is a full-time, all-consuming job, the DCINC runs EUCOM. This puts a lot of distance between him and a lowly Marine brigadier general. But Jim McCarthy never paid the slightest notice to that distance. He looked at you and not the uniform you wore or the badge of rank on your collar. Air Force officers can be parochial (so can Marines and officers of all the other services), or, worse, hung up on "Air Power Doctrine" (bombing is the war-winning strategy par excellence), but McCarthy was never caught up in that kind of stuff. He was always totally open to all the possibilities and capabilities all the services could contribute. He took what you had to offer, regardless of your service. I learned a lot about being a general officer from him.

Our chief of staff was Lieutenant General Bob Chelberg, a very personable Army artillery officer, who, like McCarthy, had superior organizational skills.

The EUCOM staff was overflowing with strong personalities. They were like b.u.mper cars, slamming into each other . . . challenging each other. Chelberg kept all these big egos working smoothly; he held the staff together. He also had a gift for picking talent, and for encouraging everybody. He made you eager to work for him on his team; and he paid attention to morale, to the troops. He knew we were working long hours; he and McCarthy glued us together socially and created a strong sense of unit camaraderie that was remarkable in a joint environment.

My immediate boss, the director of operations, was Rear Admiral Leighton Smith, USN-better known as "Snuffy." Snuffy Smith was the embodiment of the positive spirit that kept us going. He brimmed over with energy and was intellectually brilliant, yet n.o.body was quicker to laugh; he kept us smiling with his humor and animation. At the same time, he demanded the highest degree of professionalism and commitment, and he set the example by demanding no less from himself. He would go on to earn four stars and become a CINC in NATO.

These four officers provided me with an incredible learning experience.

On the EUCOM staff, I was operating at a totally new level. I was no longer dealing with just Marine Corps operations. Almost from the moment I arrived, we were doing joint planning, executing joint missions, forming joint task forces; and we were kluging together Air Force, Navy, Army, Marine, and Special Operations units to do these missions.

These were the consummate pros in these areas. They knew everything there was to know about them. . . . And in some cases we were plowing ground n.o.body had been into before.

Just watching them operate, watching them explore options and poke into new and untried ways, watching them encourage and apply innovative thinking and refuse to get bound up by old paradigms . . . all of these things really left a deep mark in me.

One example sticks hard in my memory: In the 1990-91 Gulf War, EUCOM was behind the opening of a second, air front, attacking Iraq out of Turkey. We would never have opened up that front if it hadn't been for General McCarthy.

Some young USAFE majors had come up with the idea and put together the basic work. But CENTCOM didn't seem that interested in it. And I thought for sure it would be pooh-poohed away. But McCarthy said, "No, let's pursue this. Let's see what these guys can do." And he kept pressing until Schwarzkopf came around. The second front made a difference.

THE OPERATIONS shop is normally the part of a military staff that's responsible for training, for exercises, for oversight on exercises, and for contingency planning. They also run the Op Center-the command center-and all its a.s.sociated communications. We also had some unique duties. We ran the EUCOM flight detachment, for example-a few C-21 and C-12 VIP aircraft and helicopters. shop is normally the part of a military staff that's responsible for training, for exercises, for oversight on exercises, and for contingency planning. They also run the Op Center-the command center-and all its a.s.sociated communications. We also had some unique duties. We ran the EUCOM flight detachment, for example-a few C-21 and C-12 VIP aircraft and helicopters.

When I arrived, the J-3 command center had just been renovated. It was in a big room, with computers and data centers, screens for videoconferencing, CNN, and such, and s.p.a.ces for charts and maps from the areas and regions where ops were taking place. There we'd get updates and briefs and would then process the information. It was an information center, intelligence center, and reaction center all in one. And this was where we would fuse all the information together and plan our response when a CAT was stood up in times of crises. (The function of a Crisis Action Team-CAT-was to handle a short-term event. You'd stand it up, deal with the event, and then it would go down.) In normal times, when not much was happening, we kept a simple watch in the command center, with a duty officer and a few people. But in time of crisis, when we stood up a CAT, the number could rise to ten or fifteen or more, and we'd man it full-time (in eight-hour watches) with people from different sections, like logistics, plans, and intelligence-keeping tabs, keeping things updated, communicating with the people operating in the field, processing information, developing briefs and options, issuing orders . . . all the things that planners and operators do. This put a great demand on the staff, as they had to do their regular jobs and man the CAT as well. The numbers also depended on the kind of team we needed for a particular mission. For example, some events-like humanitarian relief-required the partic.i.p.ation of Civil Affairs elements.

If the crisis grew big enough, or if we had multiple crises, the numbers would be higher still. And if the crisis got really serious-like the Gulf War-the CAT would transform into a Battle Staff, and we'd man it with as many as fifty or sixty people. Before 1990, the EUCOM J-3 shop had never done this; but 1990 brought a state of constant crisis, and we had to dust off and set up all these procedures. That responsibility fell on me. As deputy J-3, one of my jobs was to be the director of the Crisis Action Team and the Battle Staff. The CAT was in being for the entire two years of my tour of duty. (The more elaborately manned Battle Staff was up for a significant part of that time.)

WHEN I checked in, the Operations Directorate was already bustling with activity. We had just started what is called a NEO (Non-combatant Evacuation Operation) of our emba.s.sy in Liberia-Operation Sharp Edge. Ships were off the coast, and a CAT had been formed. Meanwhile, the emba.s.sy had decided to call off the evacuation and hold out, so we now had to support and protect them in that mess. checked in, the Operations Directorate was already bustling with activity. We had just started what is called a NEO (Non-combatant Evacuation Operation) of our emba.s.sy in Liberia-Operation Sharp Edge. Ships were off the coast, and a CAT had been formed. Meanwhile, the emba.s.sy had decided to call off the evacuation and hold out, so we now had to support and protect them in that mess.

Liberia wasn't an isolated case. All sorts of challenges were starting to show themselves on the other margins (meaning outside the NATO area).

But the NATO area also brought its share of headaches: The end of the Cold War brought with it a "peace dividend" drawdown of forces-not an easy transition to plan and implement. Some Cold War armaments, like chemical munitions, were no longer needed. That meant moving them out of Europe on to destruction sites on Johnston Island in the Pacific-a dangerous and delicate operation (which was called "Operation Steel Box"). Arms reduction agreements with the former Soviet Union required inspections and verification of the destruction of weapons of ma.s.s destruction. We were involved. We were running the "Beirut Air Bridge" (security, supplies, and transport for our newly reestablished emba.s.sy in Lebanon had to be airlifted by Army helicopters from Cyprus). And General Galvin was beginning to push visionary ideas about starting military-to-military connections with the Russians and Eastern Europeans. The operations shop had a big part in managing all of these.

Very soon after I came to EUCOM, listening to the daily intelligence briefings, I began to get the sense that all this wasn't going to be an aberration but a sign of the way things were going to be happening for a while. For instance, some of the really sharp intelligence a.n.a.lysts had begun to suggest that the Balkans might start coming apart. Though this tragedy was still months away, we would have been stupid not to start thinking about the possible consequences. As this and other impending crises began to show up on our radar screens, we came to realize that what we were getting into with, say, Operation Sharp Edge might not be all that unusual. The unusual might become the usual.

All this manifested itself in increased day-to-day tasks. The Crisis Action Team that had been put together for Operation Sharp Edge was left in place to deal with all of these ongoing crises and operational missions.

ONE OF my first orders from Snuffy Smith was to get out and visit our components-the four service and the special operations subordinate commands. "Spend most of your time with the Army, Air Force, and Special Operations people," he said. "You already know the Navy and the Marine Corps." my first orders from Snuffy Smith was to get out and visit our components-the four service and the special operations subordinate commands. "Spend most of your time with the Army, Air Force, and Special Operations people," he said. "You already know the Navy and the Marine Corps."

I didn't know it then, but Snuffy's "get out and get acquainted" directive was the start of something, launching me on a series of trips that took me pretty regularly out of the nest: I spent most of my time at EUCOM away from our home base. It turned out that there was always some exercise, conference, or crisis area where they needed to send somebody on the staff, and only a general would do. I always volunteered for these. Since I always wanted to get the whole experience, I was willing to travel wherever I could get it; so I was constantly on the road. And I enjoyed the h.e.l.l out of it. I just loved it.

I used to kid my wife Debbie. "You're a bachelorette," I told her. She took it well, though. She's a resourceful, independent woman.

Since we had our own airplanes and helicopters and could travel easily, during my first weeks on the job I would take a day or two here and a day or two there to visit our components. I didn't have a lot of time because the crises started hitting fast and hard, but I had enough to get out and get a sense of who we were working with-how they functioned, how they were organized, what they were like, and what were their capabilities.

As I traveled about, I got to see the vestiges of the Cold War-the ma.s.sive prepositioned stocks in storage sites throughout Europe (including caves in northern Norway); the vast complex of bases and caserns around the continent; and the total orientation toward fighting a major land and air war in the center of Europe. This Cold War construct had served us well for half a century, but it was a difficult paradigm to restructure. Time and events were pa.s.sing it by.

I wasn't sure we could adjust fast enough.

Probably the high point of these visits was my first encounters with two splendid officers, Brigadier General d.i.c.k Potter and Major General Jim Jamerson. Potter ran the Special Operations Command at EUCOM-SOCEUR. Jamerson was the director of operations at the U.S. Air Force Europe (USAFE) headquarters. During the coming months he went on to command several joint task forces on EUCOM missions. (He later became a four-star general and the DCINC of EUCOM.) Potter was a tough and colorful old Special Forces (SF) soldier, a consummate pro with more operational experience than anyone I knew, including major combat experience in Vietnam. His wealth of knowledge and experience had made him one of the premier people in Special Forces circles.

He was very operationally oriented and combat savvy in a straightforward, no-nonsense way (he didn't tolerate fools). He got difficult things done efficiently, effectively, and thoroughly; and he'd put together an extremely competent staff; his people accomplished their missions extremely well. (Snuffy and I had tremendous respect for him.) I liked d.i.c.k instantly. We were kindred souls, both of us brigadiers, sharing nearly identical views on operational issues. And since it happened that we were neighbors, our families got to know each other. So we hit it off right away and became close friends.

Jim Jamerson was the Air Force guy we dealt with day to day, and was one of the best joint officers. The first time I met him I could see that he really had his stuff together; he was sharp and perceptive, yet cooperative, responsive, and very easy to deal with.

I got to know him a lot better later on, working with him when he commanded Operation Proven Force-the joint task force air strikes and Special Operations missions we launched into Iraq out of Turkey during the First Gulf War. I worked under him as his deputy when he commanded Provide Comfort-the humanitarian relief effort that saved the lives of tens of thousands of Kurdish refugees after the Gulf War. Both experiences convinced me of his skills and brilliance. Like Potter, he was a great operator, with tremendous strength of character, a great leader, and always willing to accept new ideas and innovate.

We also became close friends.

I experienced many strange adventures with these two warriors over the next two years.

BIG CHANGES continued to pile up faster than anyone could handle them-German reunification, troop reductions, peace dividends, opportunities and problems rising from the opening to the east, a restructuring of NATO, a restructuring of Europe . . . and of course the New World Order (whatever that meant). It was all very heady. continued to pile up faster than anyone could handle them-German reunification, troop reductions, peace dividends, opportunities and problems rising from the opening to the east, a restructuring of NATO, a restructuring of Europe . . . and of course the New World Order (whatever that meant). It was all very heady.

So heady that very few noticed the fundamental conflict between what was called the "peace dividend" and the actual work it would take to reorder the world.

By late summer of 1990, what I was hearing from our leaders made it clear that the peace dividend was far more important to them than the reordering. They were looking at the fall of the Soviet Empire as though it was a winning lottery ticket that would let us cut defense spending, cut our troops and bring them home, close down overseas military bases, and use the money saved for all kinds of worthy projects (or tax cuts). The free world had triumphed, n.o.body ever again would suffer under the threat of communism, and all would be right with the world.

What I didn't see was anybody trying to ensure that this new order would actually come into existence. Order doesn't come out of chance. Somebody has to design it and make it happen.

Before the collapse of the USSR, the twentieth century had pa.s.sed through two major democratic attempts to reorder the world-President Wilson's after World War One and President Truman's and George Marshall's after World War Two. We were now embarked on the third. But now no one was trying to shape the new order. No one seemed to think we needed a vision. It would all work out on its own.

I could only wonder at that.

It seemed to me that our "victory" in the Cold War over the Soviet Union, or the Communist World, or whatever we might want to call it, had presented challenges similar to those we took on in Europe and Asia after World War Two. (The failure to address the challenges presented by World War One had led to the continuation of that war twenty years later.) Marshall and other visionaries had recognized the need to reshape the conditions that had given birth to the war, knowing that failure might make us again have to repeat it.

Now, as then, we were in a postwar situation. But here, the challenge wasn't necessarily to reshape the conditions that had led to the war. The new threats were not going to emerge from out of the Soviet Union. Rather, the challenge was to reshape the world in the absence of the bipolar structure that had held all the other potential competing-or disruptive-forces in check. We had to replace the bipolar world order with a new structure that would create new balance, control, and justice. The alternative-the disorder-would unleash uncontrollable horrors . . . a chaos of failed states armed with WMD and exporting terror.

It was clear that the bipolar environment we had lived under for half a century had suppressed forces few politicians, statesmen, and foreign affairs a.n.a.lysts had paid much attention to. But now that the bipolar containment was off, the threats had broken loose.

During the Cold War, no one ever let a little remote country in the middle of nowhere go wobbly, because every little country was involved in the compet.i.tion between the Soviets and the Free World. Each side invested whatever it took to keep the little countries in their camp. Though these investments went by names like "foreign aid" and "humanitarian a.s.sistance," they were actually payoffs. These ended with the end of the bipolar world structure. There wasn't a lot of support for humanitarian a.s.sistance and nation building once the Soviet Union had faded away.

The East-West compet.i.tion had suppressed an underlying conflict (that emerged most visibly toward the latter part of the century): the North-South compet.i.tion between the first world and the third world. This compet.i.tion had never appeared serious because the East-West compet.i.tion kept it suppressed. But when that was gone, it was immediately evident that the third world (South) had a serious quarrel with the first world (North).

Every world crisis we face today is a manifestation of that. Whether it's the drugs and the political failures and instability in Latin America, the turmoil of extremism and violence as the Islamic world adapts to modernity, or the chronic health problems, deprivations, and violent anarchy in Africa . . . all of these were brewing as the last century neared its end. They were there; but kept down. They were secondary to the East-West struggle, which effectively suppressed the concerns of those who served the first world; namely, the third world. When the East-West struggle died, the third world came out fighting ... ... but in unexpected ways. but in unexpected ways.

It took us a while to see that we were in a conflict, and longer to begin to recognize its nature. The signs weren't instantly obvious, we were feeling very good about ourselves after our great victory in the fifty-year war, and we were starting to enjoy the benefits of the emerging globalization. Globalized businesses, information technologies, borderless nations-all the webs that were increasingly linking everyone and everything in the first world did not inspire the same sense of hope and opportunity in the third world. They didn't see the wonder. They saw inside the palace doors and knew they weren't allowed in.

We took a stab at doing something about that. We began to invite them to our party . . . but without allowing them a place at the head table. (They saw this as patronizing and prejudiced.) We thought we were bringing in people who were seeking democracy, capitalism, freer trade, and a better life. We didn't realize we were at the same time very subtly putting down a third world that already felt alienated, oppressed, and suppressed, and wanted to take on the first world.

The conflict that resulted is not primarily a fight between state and state-third world states versus first world states. . . . Yes, we've seen state-against-state wars (such as those with Iraq); but that's not where the serious action is. Again, we have to understand that this is a different kind of conflict. That is to say, it's not a conflict born out of the ashes of some system that failed; namely, the former Soviet Union (as World War Two was born from the ashes of World War One). It's a conflict with non-state ent.i.ties.

By non-state ent.i.ty, I'm not just referring to terrorist groups like Al Qaeda and other violent adversaries but also to globalized corporations and nongovernmental organizations (NGOs) that have significant clout and power.

The global information revolution we're now entering enhances the growing power and influence of non-state ent.i.ties. So does the fading away of national boundaries (we're becoming a borderless society) and the migration of vast numbers of third world people into first world nations (we're becoming a transient society). Meanwhile, globalized extremist networks are doing everything in their power to bring down the structures that hold our societies together.

This whole new world was simmering underneath the Cold War. And we've had to meet this challenge unprepared. We should have gone full throttle into a visionary program like the Marshall Plan that would have injected energy, education, money-and hope-into the third world. Nothing like that happened.

THE FIRST changes to affect me as deputy J-3 involved the struggle over "peace dividend" troop reductions and the reshaping of NATO. These were soon followed by efforts to create new and productive relationships between NATO and the militaries of the former Soviet Union and the Warsaw Pact. changes to affect me as deputy J-3 involved the struggle over "peace dividend" troop reductions and the reshaping of NATO. These were soon followed by efforts to create new and productive relationships between NATO and the militaries of the former Soviet Union and the Warsaw Pact.

In the summer of 1990, when we had perhaps 300,000 troops in Europe, forces back in Washington were already saying, "It's over. NATO's an anachronism. It's dead. Let's close it down. We've got to bring back troops. We've got to close military bases. We've got to start getting rid of troops-taking them off the payroll." Within weeks, these hazy words had gone from thought to action. No real thought had been given to consequences-what we were losing, what we actually needed militarily, what these troops were actually doing for us both inside and outside Europe. It was all a matter of numbers: So many bodies equal so many dollars. The more bodies we can axe, the more dollars we free up. All for the sake of a vague "dividend."

Over the next weeks, I watched the disintegration of the Army in Europe. It really worried me. All of a sudden all kinds of career officers and NCOs were simply told to pack up and find other employment.

One day, twenty-four lieutenant colonels got RIF (Reduction in Force) orders: "Go home. We don't need you anymore." Great young sergeants, with careers ahead of them, who wanted to stay in, were given an ultimatum: "Get out now and we'll give you fifteen thousand dollars. Stay in and take your chance. You could be riffed, cut, and get nothing."