To all intents and purposes, Saudi Arabia and Israel are de facto allies in the struggle against Iran’s rising influence in the region. It’s a developing but highly sensitive relationship, but every so often there is a hint of what may be going on beneath the surface.
Last week Israel’s Chief of Staff, General Gadi Eisenkot, said in an interview with UK-based Saudi newspaper Elaph, that Israel was ready to exchange intelligence with the Saudis in order to confront Iran.
“There are shared interests and as far as the Iranian axis is concerned we are in full accord with the Saudis,” he said.
A few days later, speaking after a conference in Paris, a former Saudi justice minister, Dr Muhammad bin Abdul Karim Issa – a close associate of the Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman – told the Israeli newspaper Maariv that “no act of violence or terror that tries to justify itself by invoking the religion of Islam is justified anywhere, including in Israel”.
This was rare public criticism from inside the Arab world of attacks against Israelis.
Image copyrightAFPImage captionIsraeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu says there has been a shift in Arab-Israel relations
And just the other day a former senior Israeli military figure speaking in London told of two recent meetings with senior Saudi princes, both of whom said to him words to the effect that, “you are not our enemy any more”.
Such signals are not sent by accident. They are carefully co-ordinated and intended to warn Iran of the developing relationship as well as to prepare Saudi society given the likelihood that such ties may become ever more apparent.
The Israelis – given the nature of their political culture – tend to speak rather more openly about the relationship than do the Saudis. We know little about its practical realities or its strategic content. But it is real and it is developing.
Threat from Iran
This is at one level “a coalition of circumstance”. The destruction of Saddam Hussein’s regime in Iraq in 2003 by a US-led coalition removed a Sunni Arab strategic counterweight to Shia Iran.
The resulting Shia-dominated political leadership in the new Iraq has close ties to Tehran. It is no accident that Iraqi Shia militias have been active in the fighting in Syria supporting the government of Bashar al-Assad.
Media captionWill Saudi Arabia go to war with Iran?
Iran’s decision to back President Assad in the Syrian civil war, along with Russian air power and equipment, helped turn the tide in his favour. It opens up the possibility of an Iranian corridor stretching all the way from Tehran to the Mediterranean – something that many Sunnis see as a foreign, Persian intrusion into the heart of the Arab Middle East.
So the enmity between Iran and Saudi Arabia is both strategic and religious.
For the moment Iran and its allies and proxies, like the Shia militia group Hezbollah in Lebanon, appear to be winning. So a strengthening of the relationship between Israel and Saudi Arabia makes sense to both countries.
Both insist that Iran should never be allowed to become a nuclear weapons state. Both are uneasy about aspects of the international agreement limiting Iran’s nuclear activities. And both see an increasingly well-trained and well-equipped Hezbollah in Lebanon as a force for instability in the region.
Trump factor
But there is something more going on here as well. It is not just the problem of a rising Iran. Other crucial factors need to be considered too, notably the impact of the new Trump administration in the United States and the broader trajectory of the Middle East in the wake of the Arab Spring and the horrific war in Syria.
At first sight neither Saudi Arabia nor Israel should have any complaints about the new administration in Washington.
Mr Trump in visits to both countries seems to have embraced their strategic outlook and he too is deeply sceptical about the nuclear agreement with Iran.
Image copyrightAFPImage captionDonald Trump has squarely backed Saudi Arabia’s position on Iran
He is lavishing Washington’s allies in the Gulf with new arms sales of ever more sophisticated weaponry.
But empathy is one thing, practical strategy quite another. However welcome many of the president’s words may be in Israel and Saudi Arabia, both governments know that US policy seems adrift in the region.
The US and its allies have been out-gunned and out-played in Syria by Russia and Iran.
For all the talk the US has not yet put forward a credible and coherent policy for containing Iranian influence.
No wonder the Saudi Crown Prince has decided that his country must be more active in its own interests. There is a sense in which both Israel and Saudi Arabia are adjusting to a waning of US influence in the region and the return of old actors like Russia.
Israeli fears
And there is something more fundamental too. Prince Mohammed is embarking on a dual strategy of trying to confront Iranian influence while also re-shaping and modernising the kingdom.
The latter is in many ways a response to the upheavals of the Arab Spring and the threat of Islamist violence.
Prince Mohammed appears to have determined that the region must change if it is to have any future. And change begins at home. Reform may be as important as containing Iran.
Media captionFive things about Saudi Arabia’s Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman
A number of private discussions lead me to believe that this is something that Israel buys into too. They recognise that Prince Mohammed’s activism comes with many risks.
Israelis see Syria as “a laboratory” of what could be the region’s future. Hence their willingness to stress the positives in what Prince Mohammed is trying to do.
How far might this Israeli-Saudi dynamic go? Well that depends upon a lot of factors. Will Crown Prince Mohammed’s bold attempt to change Saudi Arabia’s course succeed? Might he over-reach in terms of Saudi Arabia’s effort to exert regional influence?
Image copyrightAFPImage captionIsrael is concerned about Iran deepening its presence across the border in Syria
Fundamentally, if the Saudi-Israel relationship is to emerge blinking into the sunlight, there needs to be progress on the Palestinian front. The Saudis have long said this must come before they will openly recognise Israel.
Without the renewal of a meaningful peace process that actually promises Palestinian statehood the Saudi-Israel “alliance” must remain in the shadows.
To all intents and purposes, Saudi Arabia and Israel are de facto allies in the struggle against Iran’s rising influence in the region. It’s a developing but highly sensitive relationship, but every so often there is a hint of what may be going on beneath the surface.
Last week Israel’s Chief of Staff, General Gadi Eisenkot, said in an interview with UK-based Saudi newspaper Elaph, that Israel was ready to exchange intelligence with the Saudis in order to confront Iran.
“There are shared interests and as far as the Iranian axis is concerned we are in full accord with the Saudis,” he said.
A few days later, speaking after a conference in Paris, a former Saudi justice minister, Dr Muhammad bin Abdul Karim Issa – a close associate of the Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman – told the Israeli newspaper Maariv that “no act of violence or terror that tries to justify itself by invoking the religion of Islam is justified anywhere, including in Israel”.
This was rare public criticism from inside the Arab world of attacks against Israelis.
Image copyrightAFPImage captionIsraeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu says there has been a shift in Arab-Israel relations
And just the other day a former senior Israeli military figure speaking in London told of two recent meetings with senior Saudi princes, both of whom said to him words to the effect that, “you are not our enemy any more”.
Such signals are not sent by accident. They are carefully co-ordinated and intended to warn Iran of the developing relationship as well as to prepare Saudi society given the likelihood that such ties may become ever more apparent.
The Israelis – given the nature of their political culture – tend to speak rather more openly about the relationship than do the Saudis. We know little about its practical realities or its strategic content. But it is real and it is developing.
Threat from Iran
This is at one level “a coalition of circumstance”. The destruction of Saddam Hussein’s regime in Iraq in 2003 by a US-led coalition removed a Sunni Arab strategic counterweight to Shia Iran.
The resulting Shia-dominated political leadership in the new Iraq has close ties to Tehran. It is no accident that Iraqi Shia militias have been active in the fighting in Syria supporting the government of Bashar al-Assad.
Media captionWill Saudi Arabia go to war with Iran?
Iran’s decision to back President Assad in the Syrian civil war, along with Russian air power and equipment, helped turn the tide in his favour. It opens up the possibility of an Iranian corridor stretching all the way from Tehran to the Mediterranean – something that many Sunnis see as a foreign, Persian intrusion into the heart of the Arab Middle East.
So the enmity between Iran and Saudi Arabia is both strategic and religious.
For the moment Iran and its allies and proxies, like the Shia militia group Hezbollah in Lebanon, appear to be winning. So a strengthening of the relationship between Israel and Saudi Arabia makes sense to both countries.
Both insist that Iran should never be allowed to become a nuclear weapons state. Both are uneasy about aspects of the international agreement limiting Iran’s nuclear activities. And both see an increasingly well-trained and well-equipped Hezbollah in Lebanon as a force for instability in the region.
Trump factor
But there is something more going on here as well. It is not just the problem of a rising Iran. Other crucial factors need to be considered too, notably the impact of the new Trump administration in the United States and the broader trajectory of the Middle East in the wake of the Arab Spring and the horrific war in Syria.
At first sight neither Saudi Arabia nor Israel should have any complaints about the new administration in Washington.
Mr Trump in visits to both countries seems to have embraced their strategic outlook and he too is deeply sceptical about the nuclear agreement with Iran.
Image copyrightAFPImage captionDonald Trump has squarely backed Saudi Arabia’s position on Iran
He is lavishing Washington’s allies in the Gulf with new arms sales of ever more sophisticated weaponry.
But empathy is one thing, practical strategy quite another. However welcome many of the president’s words may be in Israel and Saudi Arabia, both governments know that US policy seems adrift in the region.
The US and its allies have been out-gunned and out-played in Syria by Russia and Iran.
For all the talk the US has not yet put forward a credible and coherent policy for containing Iranian influence.
No wonder the Saudi Crown Prince has decided that his country must be more active in its own interests. There is a sense in which both Israel and Saudi Arabia are adjusting to a waning of US influence in the region and the return of old actors like Russia.
Israeli fears
And there is something more fundamental too. Prince Mohammed is embarking on a dual strategy of trying to confront Iranian influence while also re-shaping and modernising the kingdom.
The latter is in many ways a response to the upheavals of the Arab Spring and the threat of Islamist violence.
Prince Mohammed appears to have determined that the region must change if it is to have any future. And change begins at home. Reform may be as important as containing Iran.
Media captionFive things about Saudi Arabia’s Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman
A number of private discussions lead me to believe that this is something that Israel buys into too. They recognise that Prince Mohammed’s activism comes with many risks.
Israelis see Syria as “a laboratory” of what could be the region’s future. Hence their willingness to stress the positives in what Prince Mohammed is trying to do.
How far might this Israeli-Saudi dynamic go? Well that depends upon a lot of factors. Will Crown Prince Mohammed’s bold attempt to change Saudi Arabia’s course succeed? Might he over-reach in terms of Saudi Arabia’s effort to exert regional influence?
Image copyrightAFPImage captionIsrael is concerned about Iran deepening its presence across the border in Syria
Fundamentally, if the Saudi-Israel relationship is to emerge blinking into the sunlight, there needs to be progress on the Palestinian front. The Saudis have long said this must come before they will openly recognise Israel.
Without the renewal of a meaningful peace process that actually promises Palestinian statehood the Saudi-Israel “alliance” must remain in the shadows.
Terrorist attacks are strategically most significant when they put pressure on fault lines and have a relatively narrow objective.
A combination of tactical proficiency in terrorist skills and strategic vision is rare — and extremely dangerous when effective.
The role of counterterrorism is not only to stem the damage to human life and property, but also to prevent attacks from upending the political order.
Like natural disasters, terrorist attacks have the potential to shape human history — if they happen at the right time and at the right place. But even then, both are more likely to leave their mark by shaping larger trends than by causing radical shifts by themselves. Unlike natural disasters, the humans who orchestrate terrorist attacks have the ability to choose the time and place, and oftentimes to exploit political or societal fault lines that can accelerate trends.
Technology, political and economic developments, and ideology and theory come together to create terrorist movements. And the terrorist attack cycle ends with the “escape and exploitation phase,” when terrorist groups cash in on their work and collect their political dividends. But what are those dividends, and why do some attacks yield higher returns than others?
Tactical and Strategic Effectiveness
On March 11, 2004, 10 cellphone-detonated dynamite charges concealed in rucksacks packed with nails detonated onboard four different trains during morning rush hour in Madrid. The explosions killed 191 people and injured nearly 2,000 more. Tactically, the bombing was well executed. The devices functioned as intended, were timed to instill maximum casualties and brought Madrid’s public rail system to a halt. Strategically, it was a textbook operation — one of the best examples of an attack achieving its intended objective. In the weeks before the blasts, al Qaeda had called for violence against Spain to unseat the ruling People’s Party, which had supported the U.S.-led war in Iraq by sending 1,400 Spanish soldiers there. An election on March 14 was to be the first major vote in an Iraq war coalition country since the 2003 invasion, and it was meant to test the strength of the coalition’s decision to sign on to the controversial war. In the year ahead of the attack, the People’s Party had enjoyed a comfortable and steady lead over the second-place Spanish Socialist Workers’ Party and had maintained that lead right up to March 11. After the Madrid bombings, the People’s Party dropped 5 percentage points in the polls, and the Socialist party rose by the same amount — essentially swapping places. The Socialists went on to win the election, and within two months withdrew Spain’s troops from Iraq. The March 11 attacks achieved their originators’ intent in a rare, clean-cut victory for terrorism.
Spain’s withdrawal did not significantly alter the war effort (their contribution made up about 1 percent of the total troops in Iraq at the time), but it did highlight the rift within NATO over participation in the war. Militants using asymmetric warfare against a much more powerful state or alliance of states usually amplify their power by finding and exploiting fault lines. In the case of Madrid, the attack exploited Spanish popular opinion about the war and the tension within NATO.
Defined as “politically motivated violence against noncombatants,” terrorism for the sake of causing fear is typically not the end goal of these assaults. Attacks must be assessed using measures beyond just the level of skill displayed, the success of their execution and the amount of damage caused and deaths inflicted. The analysis must also take into consideration how the attack brought the group closer to its stated goals. “Politically motivated” is the qualifier to the violence in our definition. Another attack in Spain 13 years later provides a counterexample to the 2004 Madrid attack. On Aug. 15, 2017, a terrorist cell in Catalonia had assembled nearly 100 kilograms (220 pounds) of explosive material and were putting the finishing touches on a plan to deploy it against several Barcelona tourist sites. The result could have been at least as deadly as the 2004 attacks in Madrid. However, the explosives detonated prematurely, destroying only the house the group was hiding out in and two of the bombmakers. So, on Aug. 17, the remnants of the group carried out a series of vehicular attacks in Catalonia that managed to kill 16 people and injure over 100 more.
Tactically, the plot was not executed as well as the 2004 attack, but strategically, it was unclear what the group was trying to achieve. Other than lofty illusions of returning “al-Andalus” — Spain — to Muslim rule, it is not clear that the group had a medium-term objective. The 2004 attackers also alluded to al-Andalus, but it was going to take much more than one terrorist attack to dismantle the Spanish state and establish a caliphate there. So the attackers settled for a more obtainable goal: driving Spain out of Iraq. In 2017, the goal of returning Spain to Muslim rule is equally far-fetched, so even if the group had been tactically successful, it is unlikely their operation would have achieved strategic success. The political motivation behind the latest attack appears to have been crude and not fully fleshed out, highlighting its tactical and strategic inferiority to the 2004 attack.
Exploiting Fault Lines
Other attacks have changed the course of history in unexpected ways. John Brown intended to spark a slave rebellion with his 1859 attack on Harper’s Ferry in what is now West Virginia and end the institution of slavery in the United States once and for all. Tactically, it was a complete failure. No slaves rose up in response. Brown and all of his raiders were either killed by responding Marines or executed later for treason. It wasn’t even successful in terms of slave rebellions: Nat Turner had managed to recruit over 80 slaves to his failed rebellion in 1831. But what Brown lacked in execution, he made up for in timing. The events at Harper’s Ferry unsettled Southern slaveholders, leading them to organize militias and view Northern states as a territorial threat. The failed raid forced the issue of slavery into the 1860 elections, and 18 months later the opening shots of the U.S. Civil War were fired at Fort Sumter in South Carolina. Certainly, Brown’s raid alone did not cause the Civil War — the conflict had already been brewing for a generation — and it did not end slavery through rebellion, as he had envisioned it. However, it did inflame a tender fault line between the abolitionist North and the pro-slavery South, provoking violence that eventually led to a military and political solution ending the age of slavery in the United States.
As for the second half of the terrorism definition — “violence against noncombatants” — it does not necessarily have to involve killing. In the Iraq War, the anti-U.S. insurgency there had been building for two years by early 2006, but an operation to take down a Shiite holy site in Samarra helped expand that insurgency into a full-scale sectarian conflict. On Feb. 22, 2006, a team of militants dressed in Iraqi military uniforms detained the guards at al-Askariyah mosque, detonated explosive charges around the pillars of the building’s iconic golden dome and reduced the holy site to a pile of rubble. No people were killed in the attack, but the destruction of one of the holiest sites to Shiites unleashed a week of murders and violence that more than made up for the lack of deaths in the original attack. The provocation and violent response against Sunnis aggravated a well-known sectarian fault line in Iraq that had been flaring up for most of the thousand years that al-Askariyah’s golden dome had towered over Samarra.
Like the 2004 Madrid attack, this one also hit close to the mark of its stated objective: a “religious civil war in Iraq,” as sought by al Qaeda in Iraq leader Abu Musab al-Zarqawi. Pedantic arguments over the definition of a civil war may have ultimately denied al-Zarqawi his goal, but the bombing and the violence it provoked threatened to topple Iraq’s fledgling government. U.S. forces tracked down al-Zarqawi and killed him a few months later. The United States responded to the increase in violence with a troop surge in 2007 that, with the assistance of Sunni Arab tribes in the Anbar Awakening, turned the tide against radical violence. Shiite leader Muqtada al-Sadr also made a name for himself in the 2006 sectarian violence, and he continues to be a political heavyweight in Baghdad. However, al-Zarqawi’s objective gained new life in 2014 with the rise of the Islamic State. The al-Askariyah attack reminded everyone of the power of sectarian tensions in Iraq, and their impact continues to be felt today.
Motivations for Preventing Terrorism
Analysis of the tactical and strategic implications of terrorist attacks points to two motivations for pursuing counterterrorism. While counterterrorism helps prevent attacks that take human lives and destroy property, it also seeks to keep violent forces from interfering in domestic political processes. Political decisions fueled by the collective fear of terrorist attacks are generally not prudent ones. Political opinions on the war aside, handing al Qaeda what they asked for after Spain’s 2004 attacks proved to aspiring jihadists that terrorism was an effective tool. The United States and its allies sent a similar message to Hezbollah in 1983 when they temporarily withdrew from Lebanon after the Marine barracks bombing in Beirut orchestrated by Imad Mughniyeh. Eighteen years and a series of escalating attacks later, al Qaeda attempted to repeat Hezbollah’s success with the Sept. 11, 2001, attacks. While those attacks were tactically successful from al Qaeda’s point of view, they did not fulfill the strategic objective of driving the United States out of the Middle East and toppling U.S.-allied Arab governments. The 9/11 attacks certainly upended U.S. foreign policy though. Terrorist attacks are wild cards that threaten to send already unpredictable political processes into chaos. Safeguarding against political chaos is just as much the objective of counterterrorism as protecting human lives.
Finally, consider the strategic implications of the decisions by Archduke Franz Ferdinand’s executive protection team on June 28, 1914. His protectors failed to pick up on Gavrilo Princip’s ongoing surveillance of Ferdinand and his entourage two days ahead of that fateful day, and several of the archduke’s guards had been injured by a bomb thrown by one of Princip’s fellow conspirators earlier that morning. Those tactical threats along with the greater strategic threat of radical Serbian opposition to the Habsburgs’ presence in Bosnia spelled out a clear and present danger to the archduke. Indeed, after the bomb blast, the archduke’s security advisers decided to take a different route out of Sarajevo, but the archduke’s driver didn’t get the message and ended up getting stuck in a side street. Princip was able to shoot and kill the archduke and his wife at virtually point-blank range. Not only did the mishandling of the threat cost the Habsburg monarchy two of its members, it started a chain reaction that led to the start of World War I a month later. Again, the assassination was only one event among thousands that ultimately caused the war. However, had his security team better studied the threats and understood the risks, they probably could have prevented a terrorist attack that led to not only the death of their principal, but also to the dismantling of the world order as they knew it.
Recently, a piece was posted online written by Befeqadu, a blogger, an activist, interested in and usually posting findings, thoughts and ‘feelings’ on issues that strike the average cyber-Ethiopians’ attention. I have a few things to say, and I present some findings that may add some depth to the author’s writing, if in fact he continues to research and engage with the topic. It is only because I genuinely believe he wants to expand his knowledge about this. The last few paragraphs of his piece are convoluted and funky, I am sure not only to me, but also to him, the author. In my last paragraphs, I lay out some things I’ve been noticing, in relation to his piece, but in general to what I feel is happening on social media as well.
Cheers,
Hewan
—
Befeqadu’s piece was titled ‘The Amhara Psychology’. He starts off with trying to identify and define what contemporary Amhara is in comparison with what it historically represented. Then he highlights how tracing the language might help us pin down the evolution of the people who speak Amharic, an OK approach, but which thereby subtly declares that those who speak it would be those who are called Amhara. He also claims, without citation, that “ [l]egend has it that it was in Shoa, in the 13th century, that the language was first born” and further, that “the language is younger than Cushitic languages that include Afaan Oromo and Somali”. Primarily, it is with respect that I say, one should not make such a bold heading for a piece that isn’t even three pages long and for one which more than factual and evidence based research only presents exhausted theories about the Amhara. How does one understand the psychology of a group of diverse people? (Didn’t we tackle this in anthropology 101)
In the book, Church and State(1270 – 1527) by Taddesse Tamrat, Taddesse uses ‘Amhara’ to represent not the Amharic speaking group, but a Christian ‘advance guards’ that expanded to the south, facing conflicts with the Shewans (64). They are represented differently from the Tigre. He writes “It is apparent that all the Semitic linguistic groups south of the Tigre region had a similar origin. The Amhara tribal group is the most northerly of these communities and was probably the earliest to be established as such”. Taddesse here is explaining the southward expansion of Christians prior to the 9th century, further proving that Amhara did in fact exist before the 9th century. In fact, he continues to write, “the earliest recorded tradition of Christian settlement in the region indicates that there was already a distinct Amhara population…” (37-38). Further, Taddesse writes Yikunno Amlak’s dynasty was comprised of “Amhara and the Christian communities of Shawa” (67). I use this to present a theory, that perhaps the Amhara were not entirely Christian, and could have been pagan, and or Muslim if they had to be identified as their own group here. Or perhaps, the Amhara were their own distinct group, just like the Shewa.
Befeqadu has ignored Church documents in his writing, and I would like to guide his attention to one Gedl, Gedle Teklehaymanot, of the king not the saint. This also mentions the Amhara. It is to be noted that the Gedl was written in the 800s. The roots, Biher, languages and descriptions of the people of Ethiopia are stated in the volumes of Gedle Teklehaymanot.
Other books include: The Ethiopians by Edward Ullendorff states that Amharic has been the “Lesanne Negus” (language of the kings) officially from Yikunno Amlak’s period reign in 1270, although Amharic has been used by the Zagwe Monarchs, Lalibela et al. He presents evidence that Ge’ez and Amharic have co-existed side by side for centuries. “…the evolution of Amharic and the other modern languages can best be envisaged in this way: classical Ethiopic, in the course of time, spread over a fairly large area and, when political and other circumstances were propitious […], eventually became differentiated to such an extent that the varying speech forms were mutually unintelligible” (119). Further, the language may have been made the official national language in the past 100 years, it has been the court language for centuries (124) and its grammar studied by indigenous and foreign scholars since the middle ages. And, to Befeqadu’s list of sources that declare the Amharic language has Cushitic influences, there is solid evidence that its “Semitic stock remains appreciable” in Ullendorf’s book (125).
In Titov’s Modern Amharic Language script of 1976, he writes that there is evidence that the first known Amharic writings were from the 13th century. It should also be noted that even among the EthioSemitic languages, Amharic is classified as among the ‘Southern Semetic languages of Ethiopia, along with Guragigna, Harari, Argoba etc.. The northern Semetic languages are the Tigre, Tigrigna, the old Ethiopic and Ge’ez’.
In Gedle Qewustos written in the 14th century, there are words such as ስርጓይ which are followed by similar descriptions by church scholars which state «በአገራችን ቋንቋ ይህ እምቧይ ይባላል» referring to Amharic.
For further research, please also refer to Girma Awgichew’s book on Ethiosemetic languages and his thorough discussion of the arguments about the evolution of Amarigna. You can also refer to Kidane Wold Kifle, Nibure-ed Ermias’s ኢትዮጵያ የአለም መፋረጃ and Mesfin Woldemariam’s book which came out 7 years ago, in 2003 E.C (sorry, I forgot the title)
—
Questions and points of reflection:
To his claim, “people -whatever their ethnic background is – have to be [Orthodox Christians] and speak Amharic to have the maximum chance of taking over leadership”, I say this is partially fabricated. The Solomonic Dynasty has never been based on whether or not one speaks Amharic, and not after Tewodros as well. It mattered most whether one can trace their lineage to the House of David (Asfa-Wossen Assrate 2015; Kebra Nagast) regardless of what language you spoke. [Zagwe was based on ethnicity, Solomonic dynasty was known for intermarriages (consider this as checks and balances).]
Befeqadu’s piece is also filled with chronological confusion. He seems to contradict himself by stating that Oromiffa was used in the Zemene Mesafint time-period, even though he stated that he was discussing post-Tewodross II Ethiopia. This confusion could be emblematic of a deeper confusion of understanding what exactly he is claiming, but that is to be excused.
He then states that Gondar royalties had adopted Catholic Christianity, even though it was only Atse Suseneyos of the 17th century who officially converted and even that after deep chaos in the empire, followed by revolts from all sorts of groups, including the re-known Wellete Petros. Rumour has it that Atse ZeDengil and Atse Ya’ekob had converted but this could have been spread by royalty to simply get rid of them as power rivals. Abune Gorgorious የኢትዮጵያ ቤተክርስትያን ታሪክ and Tsehafee Tezaz Gebreselassie, the first Ethiopian Tsefihet Minister’s books are references. This is also present in the reknown Ethopian historian’s TekleTsadik Mekuria’s volumes, especially ከይኩኖአምላክ እስከ ቴዎድሮስ. Further, he mentions that in Ethiopia’s entire history, it was only Aba Jifar who was able to keep his faith while ruling a province of Ethiopia. What are the sources? Atse Zeria Yakob and Atse Amde Tsion, have gone to the extremes of Adal to expand their country – had accepted Harrar’s and Adals rulers to rule as Muslim Sultans as long as they pay tribute to the central government. Menelik’s is only exceptional because of Aba Jiffar’s proximity to the central government. Orthodox Christianity was the basis on which one could claim the throne. This was, in fact, only changed upon the reign of Haile Selassie, who was the single ruler in Ethiopia’s history to have forced direct familial lineage to legitimize one’s quest for power, to this Teklehawariat, Ras Assrate and several are evidences.
But once again, I repeat, language or ethnicity has never been a factor to rule Ethiopia. The author makes speculations as to why the Tigre could have ruled over Ethiopia. It is interesting that a Church scholar mentioned to me today that this is written in several manuscripts that the Amhara of current Shoa have lineages that go back 4 or 5 generations to the Tigre.
Then again, the author’s chronology is off and one is not quite sure which century he is talking about when he says “Amhara people speak of their birth place (saying I’m Gojjamé, Gondarré, Showayé or Wolloyé)”. Up-to about four decades ago, Amhara had taken to mean ‘Orthodox Christian’ instead of much more (Mesfin Woldemariam). His assumption that one has to ‘amharanize’ oneself then becomes even more confusing. Is he saying that all who speak Amharic will become Amhara? How about his claim that the Amhara themselves don’t necessarily call themselves that. If he is speaking of the language becoming that of a working language in contemporary Ethiopia, then would he say the same for English as it is becoming the global language? Are we Englisizing ourselves, or do we consider that simply a uniting tool for humanity? But this for another discussion.
I believe Befeqadu’s piece took a turn for the worse upon his insulting claim that ‘the common psychological make-up of the Amhara today is pride’.
“The source of this pride is the long standing narration of heroism and leadership opportunity they had. They do have strong sense of ownership to the state. They make proud of the fact that they had central role in forming the Ethiopian state. And, therefore, they don’t like critics of the way Ethiopia is formed. They hate anyone who hates the Imperial rulers and dislike who doesn’t like the state.”
This particular paragraph above is what led me to conclude that Befeqadu’s piece is not educational, nor is it meant to be taken as such. It is his assumptions of what he believes; and the piece a reflection of Befeqadu’s true opinions. No one can be challenged for what they simply assume. He refers to a group he fails to recognize through his “research” as ‘they’. He tells us, the readers, disrespectfully, that the Amhara’s pride is ‘their’ fibre of identity. He repeats that ‘they’ had a central role in forming the Ethiopian state, even-though he himself has been arguing that it could have been true that the ancestors to the Amhara group were not necessarily Amhara. He concludes with what he cannot justify. Should we count the lineage of the rulers of Ethiopia to prove that most of them were not Amhara? Is this what we have come down to?
After this, the author has two to three paragraphs, which frankly I couldn’t clearly understand. Thus, I apologize for the conclusion I am about to draw, considering they may not necessarily be in line with what Befeqadu intended to say. How is it that a group that the author claims as extremely diverse and is collectedly given one name, meant to be individualistic? In fact, how is it then possible for an activist, a reader, to criticize a group where he has done little research on/about/– for being individualistic? Now, where the Amhara came from and what role they had in the state formation needs exhaustive research, but so does the fact that EPRDF’s rule has consolidated the Amhara to mean more than what it meant a hundred years ago. People should not assume the psyche of a vast group of people based on ‘ethno-nationalists’ they meet online. I say this, because I do not believe Befeqadu understands any group of people, especially not the people of Wello, or Gojjam, or Gondar, or Shewa entirely to have warranted him to write that they are proud and have a growingly ‘Amhara nationalism’.
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Finally, my 2, 3, 4, +… cents.
I do not see much difference in forced narrations of history and Bef’s extremely bold 2 page writing on the Amhara Psychology. They both enforce things that are not necessarily factual, with unclear methodology and basically non-existent research. Doesn’t this counter what Befeqadu claims to stand for?
Also consider this: why has there been a growing trend to automatically disregard or insult Befeqadu’s or his friends’ writings recently? If a large group of people on social media are constantly revoking what you write, whether or not you are on point, then it could be people do not feel represented by what you present. If people state, over and over again, that their activists do not represent them, then there is clearly something off.
This is simply a post by someone who wanted to comment on things he views and hears and reads. Levine and other anthropological scholars are not enough to write about Ethiopia. Truthfully, I was more shocked by the amount of people he reached on social media than by the contents of his writings. If, I for one, know that I have so many followers, I would do further research and present my audience a respectful and thought-out piece. As a point of departure, if ever Befeqadu gets around to responding to this, I would like to ask, what exactly is the motif for this piece? Will you go on further to write about the Tigre Psyche? Or the Oromo Psychology? And won’t it be divisive to try to discuss such narrow definitions of ourselves?
I also suggest we come back to our own sources as well. The Orthodox Church has documents that we can use to analyze and discuss our past and which are accessible; we cannot only read Leslau and Levine and claim to know Ethiopia. Diversify your sources, dear Befeqadu, time and time again, there seems to be a debilitating Eurocentric approach you use in your writings. Ethiopia’s history is reconstructed from Ge’ez books.
Also, as a final question: why wasn’t this written in Amharic? Is there a reason for using English? I’m using English because my background forces me to be comfortable with English than Amharic. This I ask because your one comment to a friend’s latest book was that ‘to reach majority readers, he should have written in Amharic’.
Regardless, we appreciate the effort and I personally thank you for providing me with evidence that if I am ever to write about Ethiopians, I have to be simply careful with my research.
Recently, a piece was posted online written by Befeqadu, a blogger, an activist, interested in and usually posting findings, thoughts and ‘feelings’ on issues that strike the average cyber-Ethiopians’ attention. I have a few things to say, and I present some findings that may add some depth to the author’s writing, if in fact he continues to research and engage with the topic. It is only because I genuinely believe he wants to expand his knowledge about this. The last few paragraphs of his piece are convoluted and funky, I am sure not only to me, but also to him, the author. In my last paragraphs, I lay out some things I’ve been noticing, in relation to his piece, but in general to what I feel is happening on social media as well.
Cheers,
Hewan
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Befeqadu’s piece was titled ‘The Amhara Psychology’. He starts off with trying to identify and define what contemporary Amhara is in comparison with what it historically represented. Then he highlights how tracing the language might help us pin down the evolution of the people who speak Amharic, an OK approach, but which thereby subtly declares that those who speak it would be those who are called Amhara. He also claims, without citation, that “ [l]egend has it that it was in Shoa, in the 13th century, that the language was first born” and further, that “the language is younger than Cushitic languages that include Afaan Oromo and Somali”. Primarily, it is with respect that I say, one should not make such a bold heading for a piece that isn’t even three pages long and for one which more than factual and evidence based research only presents exhausted theories about the Amhara. How does one understand the psychology of a group of diverse people? (Didn’t we tackle this in anthropology 101)
In the book, Church and State(1270 – 1527) by Taddesse Tamrat, Taddesse uses ‘Amhara’ to represent not the Amharic speaking group, but a Christian ‘advance guards’ that expanded to the south, facing conflicts with the Shewans (64). They are represented differently from the Tigre. He writes “It is apparent that all the Semitic linguistic groups south of the Tigre region had a similar origin. The Amhara tribal group is the most northerly of these communities and was probably the earliest to be established as such”. Taddesse here is explaining the southward expansion of Christians prior to the 9th century, further proving that Amhara did in fact exist before the 9th century. In fact, he continues to write, “the earliest recorded tradition of Christian settlement in the region indicates that there was already a distinct Amhara population…” (37-38). Further, Taddesse writes Yikunno Amlak’s dynasty was comprised of “Amhara and the Christian communities of Shawa” (67). I use this to present a theory, that perhaps the Amhara were not entirely Christian, and could have been pagan, and or Muslim if they had to be identified as their own group here. Or perhaps, the Amhara were their own distinct group, just like the Shewa.
Befeqadu has ignored Church documents in his writing, and I would like to guide his attention to one Gedl, Gedle Teklehaymanot, of the king not the saint. This also mentions the Amhara. It is to be noted that the Gedl was written in the 800s. The roots, Biher, languages and descriptions of the people of Ethiopia are stated in the volumes of Gedle Teklehaymanot.
Other books include: The Ethiopians by Edward Ullendorff states that Amharic has been the “Lesanne Negus” (language of the kings) officially from Yikunno Amlak’s period reign in 1270, although Amharic has been used by the Zagwe Monarchs, Lalibela et al. He presents evidence that Ge’ez and Amharic have co-existed side by side for centuries. “…the evolution of Amharic and the other modern languages can best be envisaged in this way: classical Ethiopic, in the course of time, spread over a fairly large area and, when political and other circumstances were propitious […], eventually became differentiated to such an extent that the varying speech forms were mutually unintelligible” (119). Further, the language may have been made the official national language in the past 100 years, it has been the court language for centuries (124) and its grammar studied by indigenous and foreign scholars since the middle ages. And, to Befeqadu’s list of sources that declare the Amharic language has Cushitic influences, there is solid evidence that its “Semitic stock remains appreciable” in Ullendorf’s book (125).
In Titov’s Modern Amharic Language script of 1976, he writes that there is evidence that the first known Amharic writings were from the 13th century. It should also be noted that even among the EthioSemitic languages, Amharic is classified as among the ‘Southern Semetic languages of Ethiopia, along with Guragigna, Harari, Argoba etc.. The northern Semetic languages are the Tigre, Tigrigna, the old Ethiopic and Ge’ez’.
In Gedle Qewustos written in the 14th century, there are words such as ስርጓይ which are followed by similar descriptions by church scholars which state «በአገራችን ቋንቋ ይህ እምቧይ ይባላል» referring to Amharic.
For further research, please also refer to Girma Awgichew’s book on Ethiosemetic languages and his thorough discussion of the arguments about the evolution of Amarigna. You can also refer to Kidane Wold Kifle, Nibure-ed Ermias’s ኢትዮጵያ የአለም መፋረጃ and Mesfin Woldemariam’s book which came out 7 years ago, in 2003 E.C (sorry, I forgot the title)
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Questions and points of reflection:
To his claim, “people -whatever their ethnic background is – have to be [Orthodox Christians] and speak Amharic to have the maximum chance of taking over leadership”, I say this is partially fabricated. The Solomonic Dynasty has never been based on whether or not one speaks Amharic, and not after Tewodros as well. It mattered most whether one can trace their lineage to the House of David (Asfa-Wossen Assrate 2015; Kebra Nagast) regardless of what language you spoke. [Zagwe was based on ethnicity, Solomonic dynasty was known for intermarriages (consider this as checks and balances).]
Befeqadu’s piece is also filled with chronological confusion. He seems to contradict himself by stating that Oromiffa was used in the Zemene Mesafint time-period, even though he stated that he was discussing post-Tewodross II Ethiopia. This confusion could be emblematic of a deeper confusion of understanding what exactly he is claiming, but that is to be excused.
He then states that Gondar royalties had adopted Catholic Christianity, even though it was only Atse Suseneyos of the 17th century who officially converted and even that after deep chaos in the empire, followed by revolts from all sorts of groups, including the re-known Wellete Petros. Rumour has it that Atse ZeDengil and Atse Ya’ekob had converted but this could have been spread by royalty to simply get rid of them as power rivals. Abune Gorgorious የኢትዮጵያ ቤተክርስትያን ታሪክ and Tsehafee Tezaz Gebreselassie, the first Ethiopian Tsefihet Minister’s books are references. This is also present in the reknown Ethopian historian’s TekleTsadik Mekuria’s volumes, especially ከይኩኖአምላክ እስከ ቴዎድሮስ. Further, he mentions that in Ethiopia’s entire history, it was only Aba Jifar who was able to keep his faith while ruling a province of Ethiopia. What are the sources? Atse Zeria Yakob and Atse Amde Tsion, have gone to the extremes of Adal to expand their country – had accepted Harrar’s and Adals rulers to rule as Muslim Sultans as long as they pay tribute to the central government. Menelik’s is only exceptional because of Aba Jiffar’s proximity to the central government. Orthodox Christianity was the basis on which one could claim the throne. This was, in fact, only changed upon the reign of Haile Selassie, who was the single ruler in Ethiopia’s history to have forced direct familial lineage to legitimize one’s quest for power, to this Teklehawariat, Ras Assrate and several are evidences.
But once again, I repeat, language or ethnicity has never been a factor to rule Ethiopia. The author makes speculations as to why the Tigre could have ruled over Ethiopia. It is interesting that a Church scholar mentioned to me today that this is written in several manuscripts that the Amhara of current Shoa have lineages that go back 4 or 5 generations to the Tigre.
Then again, the author’s chronology is off and one is not quite sure which century he is talking about when he says “Amhara people speak of their birth place (saying I’m Gojjamé, Gondarré, Showayé or Wolloyé)”. Up-to about four decades ago, Amhara had taken to mean ‘Orthodox Christian’ instead of much more (Mesfin Woldemariam). His assumption that one has to ‘amharanize’ oneself then becomes even more confusing. Is he saying that all who speak Amharic will become Amhara? How about his claim that the Amhara themselves don’t necessarily call themselves that. If he is speaking of the language becoming that of a working language in contemporary Ethiopia, then would he say the same for English as it is becoming the global language? Are we Englisizing ourselves, or do we consider that simply a uniting tool for humanity? But this for another discussion.
I believe Befeqadu’s piece took a turn for the worse upon his insulting claim that ‘the common psychological make-up of the Amhara today is pride’.
“The source of this pride is the long standing narration of heroism and leadership opportunity they had. They do have strong sense of ownership to the state. They make proud of the fact that they had central role in forming the Ethiopian state. And, therefore, they don’t like critics of the way Ethiopia is formed. They hate anyone who hates the Imperial rulers and dislike who doesn’t like the state.”
This particular paragraph above is what led me to conclude that Befeqadu’s piece is not educational, nor is it meant to be taken as such. It is his assumptions of what he believes; and the piece a reflection of Befeqadu’s true opinions. No one can be challenged for what they simply assume. He refers to a group he fails to recognize through his “research” as ‘they’. He tells us, the readers, disrespectfully, that the Amhara’s pride is ‘their’ fibre of identity. He repeats that ‘they’ had a central role in forming the Ethiopian state, even-though he himself has been arguing that it could have been true that the ancestors to the Amhara group were not necessarily Amhara. He concludes with what he cannot justify. Should we count the lineage of the rulers of Ethiopia to prove that most of them were not Amhara? Is this what we have come down to?
After this, the author has two to three paragraphs, which frankly I couldn’t clearly understand. Thus, I apologize for the conclusion I am about to draw, considering they may not necessarily be in line with what Befeqadu intended to say. How is it that a group that the author claims as extremely diverse and is collectedly given one name, meant to be individualistic? In fact, how is it then possible for an activist, a reader, to criticize a group where he has done little research on/about/– for being individualistic? Now, where the Amhara came from and what role they had in the state formation needs exhaustive research, but so does the fact that EPRDF’s rule has consolidated the Amhara to mean more than what it meant a hundred years ago. People should not assume the psyche of a vast group of people based on ‘ethno-nationalists’ they meet online. I say this, because I do not believe Befeqadu understands any group of people, especially not the people of Wello, or Gojjam, or Gondar, or Shewa entirely to have warranted him to write that they are proud and have a growingly ‘Amhara nationalism’.
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Finally, my 2, 3, 4, +… cents.
I do not see much difference in forced narrations of history and Bef’s extremely bold 2 page writing on the Amhara Psychology. They both enforce things that are not necessarily factual, with unclear methodology and basically non-existent research. Doesn’t this counter what Befeqadu claims to stand for?
Also consider this: why has there been a growing trend to automatically disregard or insult Befeqadu’s or his friends’ writings recently? If a large group of people on social media are constantly revoking what you write, whether or not you are on point, then it could be people do not feel represented by what you present. If people state, over and over again, that their activists do not represent them, then there is clearly something off.
This is simply a post by someone who wanted to comment on things he views and hears and reads. Levine and other anthropological scholars are not enough to write about Ethiopia. Truthfully, I was more shocked by the amount of people he reached on social media than by the contents of his writings. If, I for one, know that I have so many followers, I would do further research and present my audience a respectful and thought-out piece. As a point of departure, if ever Befeqadu gets around to responding to this, I would like to ask, what exactly is the motif for this piece? Will you go on further to write about the Tigre Psyche? Or the Oromo Psychology? And won’t it be divisive to try to discuss such narrow definitions of ourselves?
I also suggest we come back to our own sources as well. The Orthodox Church has documents that we can use to analyze and discuss our past and which are accessible; we cannot only read Leslau and Levine and claim to know Ethiopia. Diversify your sources, dear Befeqadu, time and time again, there seems to be a debilitating Eurocentric approach you use in your writings. Ethiopia’s history is reconstructed from Ge’ez books.
Also, as a final question: why wasn’t this written in Amharic? Is there a reason for using English? I’m using English because my background forces me to be comfortable with English than Amharic. This I ask because your one comment to a friend’s latest book was that ‘to reach majority readers, he should have written in Amharic’.
Regardless, we appreciate the effort and I personally thank you for providing me with evidence that if I am ever to write about Ethiopians, I have to be simply careful with my research.
Teddy Afro Musics. The legendary Ethiopian singer who writes his own lyrics, creates his own melody and since he plays some instruments, he also plays part in the arrangement of his music for more info go to teddyafromuzika.com
Teddy Afro Musics. The legendary Ethiopian singer who writes his own lyrics, creates his own melody and since he plays some instruments, he also plays part in the arrangement of his music for more info go to teddyafromuzika.com
With cyberwarfare, the battlefield is going online. Here’s everything you need to know.
Cyberwar: Here’s what you need to know.
Getty Images/iStockphoto
What is cyberwar?
At its core, cyberwarfare is the use of digital attacks by one state to disrupt the computer systems of another in order to create significant damage or destruction.
What does cyberwarfare look like?
Cyberwar is still an emerging concept, but many experts are concerned that it is likely to be a significant component of any future conflicts. As well as troops using conventional weapons like guns and missiles, future battles will also be fought by hackers manipulating computer code.
Governments and intelligence agencies worry that digital attacks against vital infrastructure — like banking systems or power grids — will give attackers a way of bypassing a country’s traditional defences.
Unlike standard military attacks, a cyberattack can be launched instantaneously from any distance, with little obvious evidence in the build up. And it is often extremely hard to trace such an attack back to its originators. Modern economies, underpinned by computer networks that run everything from sanitation to food distribution and communications, are particularly vulnerable to such attacks.
The head of the US National Security Agency (NSA) Admiral Michael Rogers said his worst case cyberattack scenario would involve “outright destructive attacks”, focused on some aspects of critical US infrastructure and coupled with data manipulation “on a massive scale”. Some experts warn it’s a case of when, not if.
What is the definition of cyberwarfare?
Whether an attack should be considered to be an act of cyberwarfare depends on a number of factors. These can include the identity of the attacker, what they are doing, how they do it – and how much damage they inflict.
Like other forms of war, cyberwarfare is usually defined as a conflict between states, not individuals. Many countries are now building up military cyberwarfare capabilities, both to defend against other nations and also to attack if necessary.
Attacks by individual hackers, or even groups of hackers, would not usually be considered to be cyberwarfare, unless they were being aided and directed by a state. For example, cyber crooks who crash a bank’s computer systems while trying to steal money would not be considered to be perpetrating an act of cyberwarfare, even if they came from a rival nation. But state-backed hackers doing the same thing to destabilise a rival state’s economy might well be considered so.
The nature and scale of the targets attacked is another indicator: defacing a company website is unlikely to be considered an act of cyberwarfare, whereas disabling the missile defence system at an airbase would certainly come close. And the weapons used are important too: cyberwar refers to digital attacks on computer systems: firing a missile at a data center would not be considered cyberwarfare.
Cyberwarfare and the use of force
How these factors combine matters because they can help determine what kind of response a country can make to a cyber attack.
There is one key definition of cyberwarfare, which is a digital attack that is so serious it can be seen as the equivalent of a physical attack.
To reach this threshold, an attack on computer systems would have to lead to significant destruction or disruption, even loss of life. This is a significant threshold because under international law states are permitted to use force to defend themselves against an armed attack.
It follows then that, if a country were hit by a cyber attack of significant scale, they would be within their rights to strike back using their standard military arsenal: to respond to hacking with missile strikes. So far this has never happened – indeed it’s not entirely clear if any attack has ever reached that threshold. That doesn’t mean that attacks which fail to reach that level are irrelevant or should be ignored: it just means that the country under attack can’t justify resorting to military force to defend itself. There are plenty of other ways of responding to a cyber attack, from sanctions and expelling diplomats, to responding in kind, although calibrating the right response to an attack is often hard.
What is the Tallinn Manual?
One reason that definitions of cyberwarfare have been blurred is that there is no international law that covers cyberwar, which is what really matters here, because it is such a new concept. That doesn’t mean that cyberwarfare isn’t covered by the law, it’s just that the relevant law is piecemeal, scattered and often open to interpretation.
This lack of legal framework has resulted in a grey area: in the past some states have used the opportunity to test out cyberwar techniques in the knowledge that other states would be uncertain about how they could react under international law.
More recently that grey area has began to shrink. A group of law scholars has spent years working to explain how international law can be applied to digital warfare. This work has formed the basis of the Tallinn Manual, a textbook prepared by the group and backed by the NATO-affiliated Cooperative Cyber Defence Centre of Excellence (CCDCoE) based in the Estonian capital of Tallinn, from which the manual takes its name.
The first version of the manual looked at the rare but most serious cyber attacks, which rose to the level of the use of force; the second edition released earlier this year looked at the legal framework around cyber attacks, which do not reach the threshold of the use of force, but which take place on a daily basis.
Aimed at legal advisers to governments, military, and intelligence agencies, the Tallinn manual sets out when an attack is a violation of international law in cyberspace, and when and how states can respond to such assaults.
The manual consists of a set of guidelines — 154 rules — which set out how the lawyers think international law can be applied to cyber warfare, covering everything from the use of cyber mercenaries to the targeting of medical units’ computer systems. The idea is that by making the law around cyberwarfare clearer, there is less risk of an attack escalating, because escalation often occurs when the rules are not clear and leaders over-react.
The US intelligence briefing lists Russia, China, Iran and North Korea as the major “cyber threat actors” to worry about. Russia has a “highly advanced offensive cyber program” and has “conducted damaging and/or disruptive cyber-attacks including attacks on critical infrastructure networks”, it warns.
China has also “selectively used cyber attacks against foreign targets” and continues to “integrate and streamline its cyber operations and capabilities”, said the report, which also said Iran has already used its cyber capabilities directly against the US with a distributed denial of service attacks targeting the US financial sector in 2012-3. The report also notes that when it comes to North Korea: “Pyongyang remains capable of launching disruptive or destructive cyber attacks to support its political objectives.”
US cyberwarfare capabilities
However, it’s likely that the US has the most significant cyber defence and cyber attack capabilities. Speaking last year President Obama said: “we’re moving into a new era here, where a number of countries have significant capacities. And frankly we’ve got more capacity than anybody, both offensively and defensively.”
Much of this capability comes from US Cyber Command, lead by Admiral Rogers who also leads the NSA, which has a dual mission: to protect US Department of Defence networks but also to conduct “full spectrum military cyberspace operations in order to enable actions in all domains, ensure US/Allied freedom of action in cyberspace and deny the same to our adversaries”.
Admiral Michael Rogers, director of the US National Security Agency and head of US Cyber Command
Image: Siim Teder/Estonian Defence Forces
Cyber Command is made up of a number of what it calls ‘Cyber Mission Force teams’. The Cyber National Mission Force teams defend the US by monitoring adversary activity, blocking attacks, and manoeuvring to defeat them. Cyber Combat Mission Force teams conduct military cyber operations to support military commanders, while the Cyber Protection Force teams defend the Department of Defense information networks. By the end of fiscal year 2018, the goal is for the force to grow to nearly 6,200 and for all 133 teams to be fully operational. The US is believed to have used various forms of cyber weapons against the Iranian nuclear programme, the North Korean missile tests and the so-called Islamic State, with mixed results.
Other agencies — such as the National Security Agency (NSA) and CIA — have their own cyber attack capabilities too.
The UK has also publicly stated that is working on cyber defence and offence projects, and has vowed to strike back if attacked in this manner.
What do cyberweapons look like?
The tools of cyberwarfare can vary from the incredibly sophisticated to the utterly basic. It depends on the effect the attacker is trying to create. Many are part of the standard hacker toolkit, and a series of different tools could be used in concert as part of a cyber attack. For example, a Distributed Denial of Service attack was at the core of the attacks on Estonia in 2007.
Ransomware, which has been a constant source of trouble for businesses and consumers may also have been used not just to raise money but also to cause chaos. There is some evidence to suggest that the recent Petya ransomware attack which originated in Ukraine but rapidly spread across the world may have looked like ransomware but was being deployed to effectively destroy data by encrypting it with no possibility of unlocking it.
Other standard hacker techniques are likely to form part of a cyber attack; phishing emails to trick users into handing over passwords or other data which can allow attackers further access to networks, for example. Malware and virus could form part of an attack like the Shamoon virus, which wiped the hard drives of 30,000 PCs at Saudi Aramco in 2012.
According to the Washington Post, after revelations about Russian meddling in the run up to the 2016 US Presidential elections, President Obama authorised the planting cyber weapons in Russia’s infrastructure. “The implants were developed by the NSA and designed so that they could be triggered remotely as part of retaliatory cyber-strike in the face of Russian aggression, whether an attack on a power grid or interference in a future presidential race,” the report said
Cyberwarfare and zero-day attack stockpiles
Zero-day vulnerabilities are bugs or flaws in code which can give attackers access to or control over systems, but which have not yet been discovered and fixed by software companies. These flaws are particularly prized because there will likely be no way to stop hackers exploiting them. There is a thriving trade in zero-day exploits that allow hackers to sidestep security: very handy for nations looking to build unstoppable cyber weapons. It is believed that many nations have stock piles of zero day exploits to use for either cyber espionage or as part of elaborate cyber weapons. Zero day exploits formed a key part of the Stuxnet cyberweapon (see below).
One issue with cyberweapons, particularly those using zero-day exploits is that — unlike a conventional bomb or missile — a cyberweapon can be analysed and even potentially repurposed and re-used. Also, once used, the zero-day exploits are usually rapidly patched by software vendors, which makes it impossible to use them again. These weapons can also cause much greater chaos than planned, which is what may have happened in the case of the Ukrainian Petya ransomware attack.
What is Stuxnet?
the-lightwriter, Getty Images/iStockphoto
Stuxnet is a computer worm that targets industrial control systems, but is most famous for most likely being the first genuine cyber weapon, in that it was designed to inflict physical damage. It was developed by the US and Israel (although they have never confirmed this) to target the Iranian nuclear programme. The worm, first spotted in 2010, targeted specific Siemens industrial control systems, and seemed to be specifically targeting the systems controlling the centrifuges in the Iranian uranium enrichment project — apparently damaging 1,000 of these centrifuges and delaying the project, although the overall impact on the programme is not clear.
Stuxet was a complicated worm, using four different zero-day exploits and likely took millions of dollars of research and months or years of work to create.
What are the targets in cyberwar?
Military systems are an obvious target: preventing commanders from communicating with their troops or seeing where the enemy is would give an attacker a major advantage. However, because most developed economies rely on computerised systems for everything from power to food and transport many governments are very worried that rival states may target critical national infrastructure. Supervisory control and data acquisition (SCADA) systems, or industrial control systems, which run factories, power stations and other industrial processes are a big target, as Stuxnet showed.
These systems can be decades old and were rarely designed with security as a priority, but are increasingly being connected to the internet to make them more efficient or easy to monitor. But this also makes these systems more vulnerable to attack, and security is rarely upgraded because the organisations operating them do not consider themselves to be a target.
A short history of cyberwar
For many people 2007 was when cyberwar went from the theoretical to the actual.
When the government of the eastern European state of Estonia announced plans to move a Soviet war memorial, it found itself under a furious digital bombardment that knocked banks and government services offline (the attack is generally considered to have been Russian hackers; Russian authorities denied any knowledge). However, the DDoS attacks on Estonia did not create physical damage and, while a significant event, were not considered to have risen to the level of actual cyberwarfare.
Another cyberwarfare milestone was hit the same year, however, when the Idaho National Laboratory proved, via the Aurora Generator Test, that a digital attack could be used to destroy physical objects – in this case a generator.
The Stuxnet malware attack took place in 2010, which proved that malware could impact the physical world.
Since then there has been a steady stream of stories: in 2013 the NSA said it had stopped a plot by an unnamed nation — believed to be China — to attack the BIOS chip in PCs, rendering them unusable. In 2014 there was the attack on Sony Pictures Entertainment, blamed by many on North Korea, which showed that it was not just government systems and data that could be targeted by state-backed hackers.
Perhaps most seriously, just before Christmas in 2015 hackers managed to disrupt the power supply in parts of Ukraine, by using a well-known trojan called BlackEnergy. In March 2016 seven Iranian hackers were accused of trying to shut down a New York dam in a federal grand jury indictment.
Nations are rapidly building cyber defence and offence capabilities and NATO in 2014 took the important step of confirming that a cyber attack on one of its members would be enough to allow them to invoke Article 5, the collective defence mechanism at the heart of the alliance. In 2016 it then defined cyberspace as an “operational domain” — an area in which conflict can occur: the internet had officially become a battlefield.
Cyberwar and the Internet of Things
Big industrial control systems or military networks are often considered the main targets in cyberwarfare but one consequence of the rise of the Internet of Things may be to bring the battlefield into our homes.
“Our adversaries have capabilities to hold at risk US critical infrastructure as well as the broader ecosystem of connected consumer and industrial devices know as the Internet of Things,” said a US intelligence community briefing from January 2017. Connected thermostats, cameras and cookers could all be used either to spy on citizens of another country, or to cause havoc if they were hacked.
How do you defend against cyberwarfare
The same cybersecurity practices that will protect against everyday hackers and cyber crooks will provide some protection against state-backed cyber attackers, who use many of the same techniques. That means covering the basics: changing default passwords and making passwords hard to crack, not using the same password for different systems, making sure that all systems are patched and up-to-date (including the use of antivirus software), ensuring that systems are only connected to the internet if necessary and making sure that essential data is backed up securely. This may be enough to stop some attackers or at least give them enough extra work to do that they switch to an easier target.
Recognising that your organisation can be a target is an important step: even if your organisation is not an obvious target for hackers motivated by greed (who would hack a sewage works for money?) you may be a priority for hackers looking to create chaos.
However, for particularly high-value targets this is unlikely to be enough: these attacks are called ‘advanced and persistent’. In this case it may be hard to stop them at the boundary and additional cybersecurity investments will be needed: strong encryption, multi-factor authentication and advanced network monitoring. It may well be that you cannot stop them penetrating your network, but you may be able to stop them doing any damage.
What is cyber espionage?
Closely related but separate to cyberwarfare is cyber espionage, whereby hackers infiltrate computer systems and networks to steal data and often intellectual property. There have been plenty of examples of this in recent years: for example the hack on the US Office of Personnel Management, which saw the records of 21 million US citizens stolen, including five million sets of fingerprints, was most likely carried out by Chinese state-backed hackers.
Perhaps even more infamous: the hacking attacks in the run up to the 2016 US Presidential elections and the theft of emails from the Democratic National Committee: US intelligence said that Russia was behind the attacks. The aim of cyber espionage is to steal, not to do damage, but it’s arguable that such attacks can also have a bigger impact. Law scholars are, for example, split on whether the hacks on the DNC and the subsequent leaking of the emails could be illegal under international law.
Some argue that it mounts up to meddling in the affairs of another state and therefore some kind of response, such as hacking back, would have been justified; others argue that it was just below the threshold required. As such the line between cyberwarfare and cyberespionage is a blurred one: certainly the behaviour necessary is similar for both — sneaking into networks, looking for flaws in software — but only the outcome is different; stealing rather than destroying. For defenders it’s especially hard to tell the difference between an enemy probing a network looking for flaws to exploit and an enemy probing a network to find secrets.
“Infiltrations in US critical infrastructure–when viewed in the light of incidents like these–can look like preparations for future attacks that could be intended to harm Americans, or at least to deter the United States and other countries from protecting and defending our vital interests,” said NSA chief Rogers in testimony to the US Senate.
Cyberwarfare and information warfare
Closely related to cyberwarfare is the concept of information warfare; that is, the use of disinformation and propaganda in order to influence others — like the citizens of another state. This disinformation might use documents stolen by hackers and published — either complete or modified by the attackers to suit their purpose. It may also see the use of social media (and broader media) to share incorrect stories. While Western strategists tend to see cyberwarfare and hybrid information warfare as separate entities, some analysts say that Chinese and Russia military theorists see the two as closely linked.
3. “Hiber Radio Exclusive Interview with Dr. Merera Gudina” – Hiber Radio, September 2013
4. ‹‹Dr. Merera Gudina talks about his new book “Ethiopia’s chaotic political journey and my memoirs: from the Ethiopian students’ movement up to EPRDF›› – SBS Amharic, November 2013
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