Every day, the United States burns through 20.7 million barrels of oil. China, the world's second largest consumer, uses about 6.9 million barrels a day. Although the United States is the third leading oil producer in the world (behind Saudi Arabia and Russia), its appetite is so enormous that it overwhelms the country's production capacity. Its known reserves, about 21 billion barrels, would supply only enough to keep the country running at full speed for about three years.

So when STANFORD gathered five faculty members to talk about the implications of U.S. dependency on foreign oil, we expected grave declarations of alarm. But their concern did not square with the growing chorus of citizens and elected officials about why reducing this dependency is so important.

On the next five pages, faculty from political science, economics, law and engineering explain why the debate about energy security is missing the point, and what they think needs to be done.

STANFORD: How would you frame the issue of dependency on foreign oil? What should we be concerned about?

David Victor: The problem is not dependence per se. In fact, dependence on a world market produces enormous benefits, such as lower prices. Nor is the problem that energy's essential role in the economy means that dependence must be avoided. The real problem is that energy - oil, especially - doesn't operate according to normal market principles. Something like 75 percent of the reserves of oil and gas are controlled by companies that are either wholly owned or in effect controlled by governments, and there's enormous variation in how those companies perform. Some of them are just a disaster, like [Mexico's state-owned oil company] Pemex, and others can work at world standards, like Saudi Aramco or Brazils Petrobrás. Some of these governments, such as Venezuela, use oil revenues for political purposes that undermine U.S. influence. High prices do not automatically generate new supply or conservation, partly because suppliers can drop prices to undercut commercial investment in alternatives. Second, we have what has become known as "the resource curse." There'sa lot of evidence that the presence of huge windfalls in poorly governed places makes governance even worse. Revenue that accrues to oil-exporting governments is particularly prone to being misspent, often in ways that work against U.S. interests.

Scott Sagan: I agree that calling the problem "energy dependence" and therefore seeking energy independence is the wrong way to think about this problem. Talking about energy independence feeds the xenophobic impulse that occurs all too easily in American politics. And it suggests to other countries that they should seek independence rather than a more cooperative approach. I see very negative consequences politically in the signal that attitude sends. Think about the current nuclear crisis with Iran. Iran claims that it needs independent uranium enrichment capabilities to have "energy sovereignty." Such uranium enrichment production could be used, however, for civilian nuclear power or for making a bomb, creating enormous nuclear weapons proliferation problems. We're feeding into that kind of thinking when we use the same language about independence when referring to oil. And it produces uncooperative effects elsewhere. The Chinese, for example, cut a deal with Sudan as a means of creating energy security for themselves. It inhibits efforts of the international community to encourage that government to behave responsibly.

John Weyant: There is a distinction between dependence, meaning how much of the oil the United States consumes is imported, and vulnerability, meaning how at risk our economy and our social order are to oil-supply disruptions. That vulnerability is defined by how much of the total supply of oil in the world market comes from unreliable sources. So you have to look at oil supply on a global scale, not just in the United States. It's the instability of the supply that affects price.

Victor: I like John's term "vulnerability," and it leads us to various kinds of actions to reduce our vulnerability to the market rather than trying to make us completely independent. One of them has been around since the '70s - building and coordinating strategic stockpiles so that they are supplied into a single world market. Traditionally that could be done by the major Western countries because they were the major oil consumers. One of the big challenges for policy makers today is how to get India and China to think about the operation of this world market in the same market-based way that we think about it, and to get them to build up those stockpiles and coordinate them with our own. There's some evidence that that kind of coordination can reduce our vulnerability.

Weyant: There's this fallacy among the public that if we don't import so much oil, other oil-exporting countries are going to be hurt and we will be unaffected if oil supplies are cut off. But these countries are sometimes major trading partners of allies, and asking those allies to take a hit on our behalf just leads to other economic problems. If the economies in China and Europe and Japan, who are all major trading partners, go down, it affects how much they can buy from us. It's another reason we can't be xenophobic and just look inward on an issue like this. You get these international trade flows outside the energy sector that could be pretty devastating.

STANFORD: Last summer we saw crude oil prices hit $70 a barrel and gas prices went well above $3 per gallon nationwide. That momentarily changed consumer behavior, and reduced demand. Are high prices a good thing?

Michael May: The key factor in normalizing market conditions is assuring the market that high prices are here to stay. Major oil companies like Exxon and bp have been putting their money to other uses than exploration. They have been buying back shares and increasing returns to stockholders because that's the way Wall Street drives them. That might change if prices stayed high. It probably won't be $70 a barrel, but even $50 a barrel as a base price is almost twice the historic average. The extent to which investors become convinced that that's going to be the future average will have some bearing as to how much money they spend on exploration. Toyota and General Motors and others can make hybrids or much more efficient cars, but it takes billons of dollars of investment, and if the price of gasoline goes down, they have less incentive. When gas is cheap, driving an SUV is not such a big deal.

Victor: The reason some of these companies are buying back the shares is not just because of Wall Street but because they don't have a lot of truly attractive opportunities for investing in new production. Most of the oil reserves are either legally off limits for the Western oil companies or international oil companies generally, or they're de facto off limits because they're in places where it's so hard to do business. Although the public is seized by the high price of energy, the major energy companies are seized by concerns that prices are going to decline sharply. If there is a recession, which would dampen demand for energy, or the capacity to produce oil around the world improves, then prices will decline. It has happened in the past. That fear really retards a lot of investment because these investments have a very long capital lifetime, and you need to protect them against low prices over an incredibly long time horizon.

Michael McFaul: It's very important to understand that oil companies owned and operated by governments are not necessarily profit-maximization entities. Take Gazprom, the gas company of Russia. It is closely aligned with state interests, so profit isn't its only motivation. It will use its money for strategic purposes as defined by Vladimir Putin, not as defined by the shareholders of Gazprom. For instance, early in 2006, Gazprom cut off gas supplies to Ukraine, mostly for geopolitical reasons. Why is Hezbollah so well armed? Because of Iran, which uses oil revenue for strategic purposes; it is not used for investing in a company or investing in the market per se. This is part of the problem of the "resource curse" David referred to. If oil is discovered in a country before democratic institutions are in place, the probability of that country becoming democratic is very low. In countries where the state does not rely on the taxation of its citizens for its revenues, it doesn't have to listen to what its citizens want to do with that money. So instead of building roads or schools or doing things that taxpayers would demand of them, they use their money in ways that threaten the security of other countries, and, ultimately, their own.

Victor: It's important that we not overstate the extent to which users of energy are going to respond automatically to high prices, and the personal vehicle is a great example. Fuel accounts for about 20 percent of the total cost of operating a vehicle. Traditionally it's only been 10 or 15 percent, but we are much wealthier today than we were three decades ago when we had the [first OPEC oil embargo]. I think that helps explain a lot of the sluggishness in response in the marketplace. People are buying smaller, more fuel-efficient cars, but that trend will only go so far because there are other factors that determine what kinds of vehicles people purchase. In the United States and most advanced industrialized countries, most oil is used for transportation, where oil products have no rival. It is hard to switch. In most of the rest of the world, oil gets used for a variety of other purposes, including generating electricity. Those markets are probably going to be more responsive to the high price of oil because they're going to have opportunities to switch to other fuels. The United States used a lot of oil to generate electricity in the early 1970s and when that first oil shock came along, essentially all of that disappeared from our market. That's part of the reason why the U.S. energy system responded fairly quickly to the first oil shock, and why changes in behavior are harder to discern in the current crisis. There is no easy substitute for gasoline.

May: If we generally agree that high oil prices, on the whole, are a good thing because they cause investment in more production and more efficient uses of oil, then it would follow that the rapid growth in consumption in China is also a good thing and we should welcome it, right?

Victor: I disagree with that. In effect what we have right now is a "tax" that's been applied to the oil market due to the various dysfunctions of the way it operates and to unexpectedly high demand in the United States and China. The revenue from that tax is accruing to the producers, and if we think about how to get out of the mess here, then what we want to do is in effect apply a tax to the oil products. If we raise the price of these products to reflect the real total cost of our vulnerability to the world oil market, those companies have an incentive to go off and look for alternatives.

May: So you're saying the same thing: that high oil prices, whether from this tax or otherwise, are a good thing.

Weyant: It depends significantly on who is collecting the tax.

McFaul: Yes, the fundamental question is how the money is being spent. If I had high confidence that the money was going to reinvestment, then I could agree that high prices are good, but that's not what is happening. The Soviet Union's most dangerous adventures in the Third World correlated with the high oil prices in the 1970s. You can see the direct effect. And when the prices came down, the Soviet Union collapsed. The same is true with Iran today. They are being very aggressive in the region - in Iraq, in Lebanon, in Afghanistan - trying to become the Middle East hegemon. This would not be happening if they didn't have all these clients - Hezbollah, Hamas, their friends in Iraq - that they can support with millions of dollars. Going back a few decades, where did Osama bin Laden come from? Where did support for the Taliban come from? It came from this tax that David is talking about. If we're talking about security issues and oil, this is much more serious than supply disruption to the United States.

Victor: I agree with Mike 100 percent. If you look at where the revenues are going from Iran, Venezuela and so on, there's a long list of folks who are doing things that are contrary to our interests with the money that ultimately is coming out of the pockets of American consumers. Dealing with that is job one.

STANFORD: So how would you counsel American policy makers? What needs to happen to reduce our vulnerability over the long term?

Sagan: The vulnerabilities we have today should provide an incentive to make some critical investments and to change our thinking, but we're not really doing that. I was quite surprised at how much I agreed with one aspect of the second Bush inaugural address. [He said] let's start talking about our addiction to oil and all the problems associated with that, but I've been completely disappointed with the lack of follow-through. And part of the problem is this notion of energy independence. We need diversity in our research and development spending across the board, on a variety of technologies. We're going to produce energy security to a large degree by finding cooperative solutions that are efficient and secure for many countries working together. We need to see our national security as being very dependent on others and that's not entirely a bad thing.

Victor: There is one cluster of technology that's going to be exceptionally important - electric vehicles. The all-electric vehicle has been kind of a disaster. We tried to do that in California without much success at all. The new set of pluggable hybrid vehicles, which you plug in at night and charge up, are more promising. If such technologies make it feasible to reduce some of the transportation dependence on oil, then markets will be forced to become more "normal" and more responsive. Electric cars and other technologies can help to keep prices lower and ultimately help make the transition completely away from oil over a period of 30 or 50 years.

Weyant: We only think about energy as a nation when prices are high, and so there's a short attention span on the issue. That makes it really hard to sustain a policy that would be rational over the long term. If we're going to have a big R&D program, for example, you need to invest in technologies and sustain the investment over a long time horizon. If you couple this short attention span with our aversion to taxes, at least historically, you end up with policies that are almost designed from the outset to fail. The political tide is turning a little bit so a well-designed tax might be possible. Maybe you don't raise taxes now but you assure that the price of a [hybrid] car won't go below a certain level and that'll help create a little more confidence with the marketplace. If you just focus on research and development without getting the economic incentives right, you come up with all kinds of great gizmos that no one will actually make or use.

McFaul: We've been talking mostly about how to manipulate the market to change people's behavior and I think that's quite right. I can't tell you how many people I saw come out of a Palo Alto theater after seeing Al Gore's movie [An Inconvenient Truth] and jump into their gas-guzzling machines. I would like to tax those machines; use economic tools to change people's behavior in a way the movie didn't. This has to become a public policy issue. It's not right now. Think about the way the market for cigarettes worked in this country 50 years ago, and think of how it is structured now. We have not just taxes but regulation - they can't be advertised on television - and a national campaign trying to educate people about the health concerns. We need a similar effort on this issue.

Sagan: When you watch the Super Bowl you don't see advertisements for cigarettes, but you do for Hummers. There's no attempt at all to educate people about the relationship between these longer-term problems and what you do individually. And that takes decades.

Victor: One of the acid tests for whether the nation is pursuing a coherent energy policy is our policy on ethanol. Ethanol is important because it is a partial substitute for oil-based gasoline. In this country, almost all of the ethanol that is delivered to the marketplace is made from corn, which is economically inefficient. But we do that because the corn grows in the heartland, such as Iowa - an important state electorally. There have been lots of proposals to, for example, erase the tariff on imported ethanol. Brazil produces ethanol from sugar cane and it's much cheaper and more efficient. But the farm lobby always intervenes and these proposals languish, with the result that the U.S. ethanol industry never faces the rigors of world competition. So long as energy is bouncing around lower on the list of priorities, it will be difficult to have a coherent policy.

Weyant: It would be far better if people were willing to bite the bullet and say this is a problem and it's not going to be painless to solve it, but if we play our cards right it's not going to reduce our standard of living much. Convincing the public is really one thing that might be worth some more effort. It's a cacophony to them.

STANFORD: What is your greatest hope and your worst fear with regard to demand for oil?

Victor: My greatest hope is that inside the Chinese government and inside the Indian government people know that this independence view of the world energy market is completely wrongheaded. Maybe that will create an opportunity for the United States and India and China along with other major oil consumers to collectively manage this issue, and the consequences of doing that will spill over onto other areas of cooperation. My greatest fear, in addition to the things we've already discussed, is that the United States will use the oil issue to beat up on the Chinese and the Indians, and that our relationship with those countries, which is already fragile, will make it harder to work together on other things that also matter.

May: My greatest hope is that the United States, China, India and other major countries work together towards a more hopeful future, including improving the global environment, providing a counterbalance to mischief in the Middle East, and promoting a transition to modernization and away from extremism. My greatest fear is that the little termites who are nibbling at what is currently a somewhat sensible Chinese policy will have their way, either because the country's economy slows down - which it will inevitably - or for some other reason, and we'll wind up fighting each other or destroying each other's capabilities.

McFaul: My greatest sense of optimism comes from this discussion, and about what my colleagues in this discussion said about China, because from the surface it looks like there's a much more pernicious policy of China going its own way. I've learned today that in fact there are very reasonable voices within the Chinese government, and I hope that there will be in my own government. My greatest fear is that there will continue to be politicians who control oil revenues who do things that do not serve international security, and I'm speaking not only of Iran. My nightmarish scenario is that 10 years from now Iran, Iraq and, God forbid, Saudi Arabia are controlled by hostile governments that want to use the revenues that we pay them for their oil to harm us. I give that a low probability, but in terms of things that worry me about our security, it's the instability of those oil-exporting regimes.

Sagan: The hope is that this current crisis will provide the right set of incentives to encourage investment in a diverse set of energy R&D programs across the board, and will encourage cooperation between countries in energy research and development. That would help educate and change the culture of the United States away from a gas-guzzling, governor-in-the-Hummer culture. The fear is that this will become yet one more excuse to move to a more xenophobic policy that discourages cooperative international policies.

Weyant: Remember David Stockman, the erstwhile head of the Office of Management and Budget? I ran into him in Washington and he literally said to me, "Don't worry about oil security and disruptions or any of that stuff. We've got battleships to take care of this problem." That shocked me to no end, and my response was "Do you really want to be in that position, where that's your only option?" Your whole response is "We're best in the battleship field and you shouldn't mess with us?" This type of attitude is what worries me the most.

Sagan: We were earlier talking about the resource curse, and this strikes me as an example of the hegemon's curse. To not take the necessary steps on economic policies or energy policies because you think you've got a military backup solution. If our military strength causes us to be passive or uncooperative on the economic or energy front, it will have a boomerang effect that will really hurt us.

Imagine a land where bombs explode almost daily and children are killed by terrorists without conscience. On one side we find a people who suffered through the horror of slave-labor death camps; on the other side a people who suffered through a terrible war -- which they began when what they felt was their property was seized from them -- a terrible defeat and (for them) a terrible occupation. Now imagine those same peoples 15 years later, living side by side, peacefully.

This sounds like a pipe dream: The Middle East could never be this way, we think. But we do not need to imagine this land.

We are living in it.

One century after America's Civil War, the descendants of slaves daily faced the twin terrors of homicide and arson. Yet only 15 years after the rise of the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr., the back of segregation and neo-Confederate violence had been broken.

Can Palestinians likewise mount a successful, nonviolent movement toward peaceful co-existence with their former adversaries? In short, can history repeat itself?

How expensive would it be for us if it did not? America spends an estimated $3 billion a year in support of Israel. This support is justified because Israel is a democracy and our main ally in the region. Yet we also spend $2 billion supporting Israel's nondemocratic neighbor, Egypt. Billions more have been spent maintaining bases in Saudi Arabia, Kuwait and now Iraq. We justify these expenditures by surrendering to the serpentine excuses of realpolitik: We need the support of key figures and families in the region, we say, and so we have to work with them. Just as we once said of the Dixiecrats and other segregationist politicians in the American South.

We can transform this paradigm, as we did then, and at little cost to ourselves. We can utilize the experience of the civil rights movement -- which Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice knows all too well (her childhood friend was killed by an improvised explosive device in segregated Birmingham) -- to assist Palestinians in their stride toward peace. What we need is a Muslim Martin Luther King.

Many believe that leaders are born, not made, but programs to cultivate leadership and promote good will among men have been used successfully for generations. Oxford's Rhodes Scholarship is one such example. Its idea is to bring the best and brightest from the British Commonwealth (and beyond) to build strong ties among English-speaking peoples, and stronger ties to England. Founder Cecil Rhodes, pirate though he was, wished for there to be "an understanding between the three great powers" -- America, Britain and Germany -- that "will render war impossible."

What we recommend is a sister program for the Middle East. One could hold a competition for the 30 best young orators in the Palestinian diaspora. (King first gained prominence at age 26, and the Rhodes Scholarship is only for men and women under that age.) Send them to an American institution such as Stanford University, where they could study for the doctorate under Professor Clayborne Carson, director of the Martin Luther King Jr. Papers Project and historian of the civil rights movement and the Student Non-Violent Coordinating Committee. Then, after they have spent several years studying the African American experience with special courses and lecturers, focusing especially on the efficacy of nonviolent direct action, send them back to their native lands.

This is no program of indoctrination. Indeed, it would be detrimental if American spy organizations were to infiltrate or interfere with the King scholars in any way: the scholars would lose all credibility at home. Just as King spoke out against Southern injustice (and American injustice in Vietnam), the King scholars must be free to criticize America and, it is to be expected, the occupation. They would not be able to lead the Arab street otherwise.

By bringing young leaders from the region, we would avoid disasters like the U.S. Army's flirtation with mathematician Ahmed Chalabi, a man who had no real roots in Iraq, but whom America still wished to enthrone as a new shah. The Chalabi experiment blew up in America's face like a roadside bomb.

The King scholarship program might cost only $2 million per year -- an endowment of perhaps $20 million could put it on its feet indefinitely. And, coupled with the application of "soft power," the export of American culture -- notably, hip-hop music, which serves both as a mechanism for promoting intercultural understanding and as a nonviolent channel for youthful aggression -- one could reasonably expect to see the flower of peace bloom in the desert of despair.

Two specific aspects of the civil rights movement would be most effective in resolving the Israeli-Palestinian conflict: first, the proper utilization of legal instruments as a way to wage a nonviolent campaign; second, the utilization of mosques to mobilize a nonviolent grassroots struggle. Mosques in the West Bank and Gaza can be used to promote peace over violence and terrorism, and the African American experience can teach Palestinians how to do this.

In "The Trial" by Franz Kafka, at one point two men stand outside a gate. One seeks to enter; the other seeks to prevent him from entering. Both men wait there for their entire lives. Though one is guard and the other the one guarded, both men are prisoners.

In game theory, the branch of mathematics made famous by "A Beautiful Mind," there is a paradox called the Prisoners' Dilemma. Each of two prisoners may believe it is in his best interests to harm the other, but one can mathematically prove that both men would be better off if they cooperated. A King scholars program might help us resolve the prisoners' dilemma that is the Middle East.

This is a utopian dream, perhaps. But another man dreamed, once, and we all know what became of that man's dream.

We are living it.

Noah Feldman

In looking at the brewing civil war between the two groups in Iraq, it's easy to assume that the cause is ancient hatred. Nothing could be further from the truth. For the overwhelming majority of Iraqi history, Sunnis and Shi'ites have lived peacefully side by side, and numerous Iraqis are the children of mixed marriages. Instead we are witnessing in Iraq what occurs when government collapses and there is no state around capable of guaranteeing personal security.

What do you do when your family is in peril and you cannot turn to the government for protection? The answer is that you will take security wherever you can get it. You need to find some group that will be capable of keeping you safe, and that group had better be one that can count on your loyalty just as you can count on its protection. If you are a member of my ethnic, racial or religious group, then we share at least some basic bond, which may be enough to ensure our loyalty to one another. I need some assurance that you will have my back, and identity is better than nothing.

Sunnis and Shi'ites may find themselves joining militias or supporting denomination-based political parties even if they are not particularly pious and would much prefer not to. Something similar happened in the former Yugoslavia when its government collapsed with the fall of communism and nothing replaced it. Ethnic activists - call them identity entrepreneurs - will always form the core of the new militia. These radicals will emphasize symbols, like al-Askari mosque that was blown up last week in Iraq, and hope that followers will react by strengthening their commitments to the group itself.

Is it possible to break the cycle of violence that gets under way when identity groups move toward civil war? One answer is for an outside force to impose a solution. The killing did not stop in Bosnia or Kosovo until Western powers showed they were willing to bomb. But this approach is not viable in Iraq, where U.S. bombs came first and civil strife has followed. Instead the only way out of the violence is for Iraqis to realize that they have more to gain by negotiating a settlement between their groups than they do by allowing a full-blown brothers' war to break out.

Vali Nasr Author The Shia Revival (forthcoming)

What lies at the heart of the sectarian violence in Iraq is not so much religious dispute as it is a very secular competition for power and prominence in the new Iraq. Iraq is not all that different from Northern Ireland or Bosnia, where religion paraded as ethnicity and became a vehicle for communal rivalries. In the vacuum of power left by the fall of Saddam Hussein, the game of numbers has favored Shi'as, who are 60% of the population. It is for this reason that they wholeheartedly embraced democracy. Disgruntled Sunnis, on the other hand, vested their fortunes in boycott and violence, hoping that as spoilers, they would gain leverage in negotiating over the future.

Few in the West recognized the depth of either the Shi'a anger at the Saddam regime or the Sunni rage born of loss of power. There is a strong sense of Iraqi identity among both Shi'as and Sunnis, but as strong allegiance to sect and ethnicity in every election has shown, a shared notion of what Iraqi identity means and how each community sees the future of Iraq is fast disappearing. As happened in Bosnia, in Iraq mixed marriages and shared memory of coexistence will not be enough to stop internecine violence.

Shi'as embraced the political process that the U.S. set in place in 2003 in the hope that it would guarantee their security and serve their interests. There is indication now that many Shi'as are having second thoughts. Already overstretched in facing the Sunni insurgency, the U.S. can hardly afford losing the Shi'a as well. If tensions escalate to a full-blown civil war, Iran, Saudi Arabia, Jordan and Syria may all join the war to protect their co-sectarians and to scramble for pieces of a failed Iraq.

Pulling Iraq back from the brink will be difficult. Building a strong central government and an effective security force will help. The challenge is to get them up and running before events on the ground pass a point of no return.

James D. Fearon

By any reasonable definition, there has been a civil war in progress in Iraq at least since the Coalition Provisional Authority formally handed over authority to the Iraqis in 2004. A civil war is a violent conflict within a country fought between organized groups seeking to compel a major change in government policies or to take control of the center or a region. The insurgents in Iraq target the U.S. military, but they are also fighting against the Shi'ite-dominated Iraqi government and killing large numbers of Iraqis. There is little reason to think that if the U.S. suddenly withdrew, the insurgents would not continue to fight to control or shape the government.

When we hear talk about incipient civil war in Iraq, the fear is of an escalation of the current insurgency into a much bigger war. Analysts may have in mind something like the U.S. Civil War, with Sunni and Shi'ite armies fighting each other across well-defined fronts. Or they may imagine a sudden spasm of massive communal conflict and ethnic cleansing along the lines of Bosnia or Rwanda. Neither scenario is all that likely, although bouts of violent ethnic cleansing are certainly possible in a few parts of the country, especially Kirkuk.

My guess would be that as the insurgency continues to create insecurity, sectarian militias will continue to grow in power and influence. They will increasingly supply local security, but in the form of protection rackets that extort as they protect. They will clash with each other over territory and control of revenue sources. Since the Sunnis remain highly disorganized, some of these local fights may initially be intra-Shi'ite. But in the absence of effective political incorporation and protection from national police and army units - which are heavily infiltrated by Shi'ite militias - Sunnis will gradually form a patchwork of militias. Neighborhood-by-neighborhood conflict and violence will increase. Think Lebanon.

Juan Cole

If you look at the ethnic conflicts and street demonstrations during Iraq's modern history, it is remarkable how few have involved Shi'ites fighting Sunnis. During the colonial era, Iraqis were united by their opposition to the British occupation. Sunni and Shi'ite tribes cooperated in rebelling against British rule, and were only put down with a bombing campaign in 1920 that killed 9,000. In 1941 mobs targeted Iraq's small Jewish population; Jews had been a valued part of the Iraqi national fabric but were accused, unfairly, of being pro-colonial. After World War II, much of the violence in Iraq was fueled by issues of class. In 1948 slum dwellers and railway and oil workers revolted against a government treaty with Britain. In 1959, Arab nationalists assassinated Communist Party members, while mobs in Mosul and Kirkuk attacked and killed rich businessmen and landowners.

Iraqi Muslims have not all along been severely divided by religious sect. There have been many instances of strong cooperation between Sunnis and Shi'ites. Other social divides have led to mob violence in the past, but Iraqis have overcome them to re-establish national unity. It remains to be seen whether they can accomplish this feat again.

You burst into the room. Sitting on a chair, blindfolded, his hands tied behind his back, is your prisoner. The room is dark, except for a lonely naked bulb hanging from the ceiling. He is sweating. He is afraid.

"Tell me where it is!" you scream. "Now!" You know there is little time left. Somewhere in your city, a time bomb is ticking. Whether it spits serin into the air, uranium into the water or atomic fire into the heavens, you do not know.

He does. But he is not talking. Involuntarily, you raise your hand as if to strike. What you are about to do violates the law and your conscience. And yet...

In peacetime, torture ranks next to murder as a primal sin. But during war, the debate begins over whether this evil can ever be justified to combat the seemingly greater evil of the enemy. Harvard law Professor Alan Dershowitz has said torture should be legalized.

In early October, the U.S. Senate voted 90-9 to ban it. Although Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice and President Bush have both recently asserted that "We do not torture," five U.S. Army Rangers were charged in November for punching and kicking detainees in Iraq, secret U.S. prisons have caused anxiety in Europe, and Vice President Dick Cheney has battled to win the CIA an exemption from the torture ban. As late as December, the U.S. House of Representatives stood poised to defeat the White House.

Few of us will ever be asked to torture. But, indirectly, all of us have to make a choice: to support, as citizens, those politicians who back torture, or those who seek its prohibition.

The decision of an individual to support, or reject, torture seems at first to be a purely moral question. But what would be the long-term consequences to society if we were to make this radical break with the past?

One cannot do experiments with societies, or predict the future, but, it turns out, one can attempt to address this issue using the cold, hard tools of mathematics and logic. This story begins in 1963.

The United States and the Soviet Union are on the perpetual brink of war, balanced like two sides of an equation. On the American side are "game theorists" like Thomas Schelling, recently awarded the Nobel Prize for his work on the strategy of conflict. On the Soviet side, there is the solitary mathematical psychologist Vladimir Lefebvre.

Just as mathematics could be used to describe logical reasoning, Lefebvre saw that mathematics could be used to describe ethical reasoning. If something was good -- for example, "church," "democracy," "prosperity," "kindness" -- it had value "1."

If something was evil -- "earthquake," "famine," "military defeat," "murder" -- it had value "0." But rarely were ethical situations so simple. For instance, "killing" is bad (0) but protecting one's country is good (1) -- so is war 1 or 0?

Lefebvre saw that, at the crudest level, there were essentially two types of ethical systems. Those that held that employing evil means to attain just ends was good, and those that saw that employing evil means to attain good ends was wrong.

There were also, crudely put, two types of relations between individuals: those entailing compromise (or cooperation) and those entailing confrontation.

Of course, evil people rarely see themselves as evil. So Lefebvre had to incorporate in his model of human nature the capacity of human beings to judge -- correctly or incorrectly -- the goodness or evil of their own acts, and to reflect upon their own judgments, and others'. "Reflexive Theory" was born.

It quickly became a paradigm within the Soviet defense establishment, with the publication of books such as "Mathematics and Armed Conflict." Nothing like it was known in the West.

With very simple assumptions -- for instance, that an individual who correctly sees his actions to be good when they are good, and evil if they are evil, is more highly regarded by society than an individual who incorrectly sees himself -- Lefebvre showed that in a society that accepted the compromise of good with evil, individuals would more often seek the path of confrontation with each other.

Lefebvre's insights were called upon by the State Department during negotiations with Mikhail Gorbachev in Reykjavik, Iceland. (And perhaps Lefebvre's model could be re-enlisted to help U.S. officials understand and negotiate with Arab and Muslim heads of state, who must also negotiate with their people.)

In support of Lefebvre's revolutionary new theory, a survey of Soviet émigrés and Americans was conducted in the 1970s. They were asked questions like, "Should a doctor conceal from a patient that he has cancer in order to diminish his suffering?" Overwhelmingly, the Americans would say no, and overwhelmingly, the Soviets yes. The Soviets accepted the compromise of good with evil; the Americans rejected it.

What does this mean? If Americans begin to accept the use of torture, American society might turn into a society of individuals in conflict.

Not uniformly, thanks to something called free will, but generally, with harmful consequences for society: Imagine two roads, with a stream of cars moving along each one. Each driver wants to reach his destination as quickly as possible; on occasion, drivers will impede each other.

On the first road, drivers rise in their own, and in other drivers', estimation if they yield. Drivers on the second road lose face when they yield. It is clear that traffic will move faster on the first road than on the second.

It can be argued that repressive states like Saudi Arabia, which bred most of the Sept. 11 hijackers, are on the second road. If the United States moved to accept torture, it could veer toward the second road, too -- the road of the Soviet Union.

And we know where that road ends. The Soviet Union no longer exists.

Since World War II, no state has suffered so cruel a reversal of fortunes as Israel. Admired all the way into the 1970s as the state of "those plucky Jews" who survived against all odds and made democracy and the desert bloom in a climate hostile to both liberty and greenery, Israel has become the target of creeping delegitimization. The denigration comes in two guises. The first, the soft version, blames Israel first and most for whatever ails the Middle East, and for having corrupted U.S. foreign policy. It is the standard fare of editorials around the world, not to mention the sheer venom oozing from the pages of the Arab-Islamic press. The more recent hard version zeroes in on Israel's very existence. According to this dispensation, it is Israel as such, and not its behavior, that lies at the root of troubles in the Middle East. Hence the "statocidal" conclusion that Israel's birth, midwifed by both the United States and the Soviet Union in 1948, was a grievous mistake, grandiose and worthy as it may have been bat the time.

The soft version is familiar enough. One motif is the "wagging the dog" theory. Thus, in the United States, the "Jewish lobby" and a cabal of neoconservatives have bamboozled the Bush administration into a mindless pro-Israel policy inimical to the national interest. This view attributes, as has happened so often in history, too much clout to the Jews. And behind this charge lurks a more general one-that it is somehow antidemocratic for subnational groups to throw themselves into the hurly-burly of politics when it comes to foreign policy. But let us count the ways in which subnational entities battle over the national interest: unions and corporations clamor for tariffs and tax loopholes; nongovernmental organizations agitate for humanitarian intervention; and Cuban Americans keep us from smoking cheroots from the Vuelta Abajo. In previous years, Poles militated in favor of Solidarity, African Americans against Apartheid South Africa, and Latvians against the Soviet Union. In other words, the democratic melee has never stopped at the water's edge.

Another soft version is the "root-cause" theory in its many variations.

Because the "obstinate" and "recalcitrant" Israelis are the main culprits, they must be punished and pushed back for the sake of peace. "Put pressure on Israel"; "cut economic and military aid"; "serve them notice that we will not condone their brutalities"-these have been the boilerplate homilies, indeed the obsessions, of the chattering classes and the foreign-office establishment for decades. Yet, as Sigmund Freud reminded us, obsessions tend to spread. And so there are ever more creative addenda to the well-wrought root-cause theory. Anatol Lieven of the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace argues that what is happening between Israelis and Palestinians is a "tremendous obstacle to democratization because it inflames all the worst, most regressive aspects of Arab nationalism and Arab culture." In other words, the conflict drives the pathology, and not the other way around-which is like the streetfighter explaining to the police: "It all started when this guy hit back."

The problem with this root cause argument is threefold: It blurs, if not reverses, cause and effect. It ignores a myriad of conflicts unrelated to Israel. And it absolves the Arabs of culpability, shifting the blame to you know whom. If one believes former U.N. weapons inspector Scott Ritter, the Arab-Islamic quest for weapons of mass destruction, and by extension the war against Iraq, are also Made in Israel. "[A]s long as Israel has nuclear weapons," Ritter opines, "it has chosen to take a path that is inherently confrontational....Now the Arab countries, the Muslim world, is not about to sit back and let this happen, so they will seek their own deterrent. We saw this in Iraq, not only with a nuclear deterrent but also with a biological weapons deterrent...that the Iraqis were developing to offset the Israeli nuclear superiority."

This theory would be engaging if it did not collide with some inconvenient facts. Iraqis didn't use their weapons of mass destruction against the Israeli usurper but against fellow Muslims during the Iran-Iraq War, and against fellow Iraqis in the poison-gas attack against Kurds in Halabja in 1988-neither of whom were brandishing any nuclear weapons. As for the Iraqi nuclear program, we now have the "Duelfer Report," based on the debriefing of Iraqi regime loyalists, which concluded: "Iran was the preeminent motivator of this policy. All senior-level Iraqi officials considered Iran to be Iraq's principal enemy in the region. The wish to balance Israel and acquire status and influence in the Arab world were also considerations, but secondary."

Now to the hard version. Ever so subtly, a more baleful tone slips into this narrative: Israel is not merely an unruly neighbor but an unwelcome intruder. Still timidly uttered outside the Arab world, this version's proponents in the West bestride the stage as truth sayers who dare to defy taboo. Thus, the British writer A.N. Wilson declares that he has reluctantly come to the conclusion that Israel, through its own actions, has proven it does not have the right to exist. And, following Sept. 11, 2001, Brazilian scholar Jose Arthur Giannotti said: "Let us agree that the history of the Middle East would be entirely different without the State of Israel, which opened a wound between Islam and the West. Can you get rid of Muslim terrorism without getting rid of this wound which is the source of the frustration of potential terrorists?"

The very idea of a Jewish state is an "anachronism," argues Tony Judt, a professor and director of the Remarque Institute at New York University. It resembles a "late-nineteenth-century separatist project" that has "no place" in this wondrous new world moving toward the teleological perfection of multiethnic and multicultural togetherness bound together by international law. The time has come to "think the unthinkable," hence, to ditch this Jewish state for a binational one, guaranteed, of course, by international force.

So let us assume that Israel is an anachronism and a historical mistake without which the Arab-Islamic world stretching from Algeria to Egypt, from Syria to Pakistan, would be a far happier place, above all because the original sin, the establishment of Israel, never would have been committed. Then let's move from the past to the present, pretending that we could wave a mighty magic wand, and "poof," Israel disappears from the map.

Civilization of Clashes

Let us start the what-if procession in 1948, when Israel was born in war.

Would stillbirth have nipped the Palestinian problem in the bud? Not quite. Egypt, Transjordan (now Jordan), Syria, Iraq, and Lebanon marched on Haifa and Tel Aviv not to liberate Palestine, but to grab it. The invasion was a textbook competitive power play by neighboring states intent on acquiring territory for themselves. If they had been victorious, a Palestinian state would not have emerged, and there still would have been plenty of refugees. (Recall that half the population of Kuwait fled Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein's "liberation" of that country in 1990.) Indeed, assuming that Palestinian nationalism had awakened when it did in the late 1960s and 1970s, the Palestinians might now be dispatching suicide bombers to Egypt, Syria, and elsewhere.

Let us imagine Israel had disappeared in 1967, instead of occupying the West Bank and the Gaza Strip, which were held, respectively, by Jordan's King Hussein and Egypt's President Gamal Abdel Nasser. Would they have relinquished their possessions to Palestinian leader Yasir Arafat and thrown in Haifa and Tel Aviv for good measure? Not likely. The two potentates, enemies in all but name, were united only by their common hatred and fear of Arafat, the founder of Fatah (the Palestine National Liberation Movement) and rightly suspected of plotting against Arab regimes. In short, the "root cause" of Palestinian statelessness would have persisted, even in Israel's absence.

Let us finally assume, through a thought experiment, that Israel goes "poof" today. How would this development affect the political pathologies of the Middle East? Only those who think the Palestinian issue is at the core of the Middle East conflict would lightly predict a happy career for this most dysfunctional region once Israel vanishes. For there is no such thing as "the" conflict. A quick count reveals five ways in which the region's fortunes would remain stunted-or worse:

States vs. States Israel's elimination from the regional balance would hardly bolster intra-Arab amity. The retraction of the colonial powers, Britain and France, in the mid-20th century left behind a bunch of young Arab states seeking to redraw the map of the region. From the very beginning, Syria laid claim to Lebanon. In 1970, only the Israeli military deterred Damascus from invading Jordan under the pretext of supporting a Palestinian uprising. Throughout the 1950s and 1960s, Nasser's Egypt proclaimed itself the avatar of pan-Arabism, intervening in Yemen during the 1960s. Nasser's successor, President Anwar Sadat, was embroiled in on-and-off clashes with Libya throughout the late 1970s. Syria marched into Lebanon in 1976 and then effectively annexed the country 15 years later, and Iraq launched two wars against fellow Muslim states: Iran in 1980, Kuwait in 1990. The war against Iran was the longest conventional war of the 20th century. None of these conflicts is related to the Israeli-Palestinian one. Indeed, Israel's disappearance would only liberate military assets for use in such internal rivalries.

Believers vs. Believers: Those who think that the Middle East conflict is a "Muslim-Jewish thing" had better take a closer look at the score card: 14 years of sectarian bloodshed in Lebanon; Saddam's campaign of extinction against the Shia in the aftermath of the first Gulf War; Syria's massacre of 20,000 people in the Muslim Brotherhood stronghold of Hama in 1982; and terrorist violence against Egyptian Christians in the 1990s. Add to this tally intraconfessional oppression, such as in Saudi Arabia, where the fundamentalist Wahhabi sect wields the truncheon of state power to inflict its dour lifestyle on the less devout.

Ideologies vs. Ideologies: Zionism is not the only "ism" in the region, which is rife with competing ideologies. Even though the Baathist parties in Syria and Iraq sprang from the same fascist European roots, both have vied for precedence in the Middle East. Nasser wielded pan-Arabism-cumsocialism against the Arab nation-state. And both Baathists and Nasserites have opposed the monarchies, such as in Jordan. Khomeinist Iran and Wahhabite Saudi Arabia remain mortal enemies. What is the connection to the Arab-Israeli conflict? Nil, with the exception of Hamas, a terror army of the faithful once supported by Israel as a rival to the Palestine Liberation Organization and now responsible for many suicide bombings in Israel. But will Hamas disband once Israel is gone? Hardly Hamas has bigger ambitions than eliminating the "Zionist entity." The organization seeks nothing less than a unified Arab state under a regime of God.

Reactionary Utopia vs. Modernity: A common enmity toward Israel is the only thing that prevents Arab modernizers and traditionalists from tearing their societies apart. Fundamentalists vie against secularists and reformist Muslims for the fusion of mosque and state under the green flag of the Prophet. And a barely concealed class struggle pits a minuscule bourgeoisie and millions of unemployed young men against the power structure, usually a form of statist cronyism that controls the means of production. Far from creating tensions, Israel actually contains the antagonisms in the world around it.

Regimes vs. Peoples: The existence of Israel cannot explain the breadth and depth of the Mukhabarat states (secret police states) throughout the Middle East. With the exceptions of Jordan, Morocco, and the Gulf sheikdoms, which gingerly practice an enlightened monarchism, all Arab countries (plus Iran and Pakistan) are but variations of despotism-from the dynastic dictatorship of Syria to the authoritarianism of Egypt. Intranational strife in Algeria has killed nearly 100,000, with no letup in sight. Saddam's victims are said to number 300,000. After the Khomeinists took power in 1979, Iran was embroiled not only in the Iran-Iraq War but also in barely contained civil unrest into the 1980s. Pakistan is an explosion waiting to happen. Ruthless suppression is the price of stability in this region.

Again, it would take a florid imagination to surmise that factoring Israel out of the Middle East equation would produce liberal democracy in the region. It might be plausible to argue that the dialectic of enmity somehow favors dictatorship in "frontline states" such as Egypt and Syria-governments that invoke the proximity of the "Zionist threat" as a pretext to suppress dissent. But how then to explain the mayhem in faraway Algeria, the bizarre cult-of-personality regime in Libya, the pious kleptocracy of Saudi Arabia, the clerical despotism of Iran, or democracy's enduring failure to take root in Pakistan? Did Israel somehow cause the various putsches that produced the republic of fear in Iraq? If Jordan, the state sharing the longest border with Israel, can experiment with constitutional monarchy, why not Syria?

It won't do to lay the democracy and development deficits of the Arab world on the doorstep of the Jewish state. Israel is a pretext, not a cause, and therefore its dispatch will not heal the self-inflicted wounds of the Arab-Islamic world. Nor will the mild version of "statocide," a binational state, do the trick-not in view of the "civilization of clashes" (to borrow a term from British historian Niall Ferguson) that is the hallmark of Arab political culture. The mortal struggle between Israelis and Palestinians would simply shift from the outside to the inside.

My Enemy, Myself

Can anybody proclaim in good conscience that these dysfunctionalities of the Arab world would vanish along with Israel? Two U.N. "Arab Human Development Reports," written by Arab authors, say no. The calamities are homemade. Stagnation and hopelessness have three root causes. The first is lack of freedom. The United Nations cites the persistence of absolute autocracies, bogus elections, judiciaries beholden to executives, and constraints on civil society. Freedom of expression and association are also sharply limited. The second root cause is lack of knowledge: Sixty-five million adults are illiterate, and some 10 million children have no schooling at all. As such, the Arab world is dropping ever further behind in scientific research and the development of information technology. Third, female participation in political and economic life is the lowest in the world. Economic growth will continue to lag as long as the potential of half the population remains largely untapped.

Will all of this right itself when that Judeo-Western insult to Arab pride finally vanishes? Will the millions of unemployed and bored young men, cannon fodder for the terrorists, vanish as well-along with one-party rule, corruption, and closed economies? This notion makes sense only if one cherishes single-cause explanations or, worse, harbors a particular animus against the Jewish state and its refusal to behave like Sweden.(Come to think of it, Sweden would not be Sweden either if it lived in the Hobbesian world of the Middle East.)

Finally, the most popular what-if issue of them all: Would the Islamic world hate the United States less if Israel vanished? Like all what-if queries, this one, too, admits only suggestive evidence. To begin, the notion that 5 million Jews are solely responsible for the rage of 1 billion or so Muslims cannot carry the weight assigned to it. Second, Arab-Islamic hatreds of the United States preceded the conquest of the West Bank and Gaza. Recall the loathing left behind by the U.S.-managed coup that restored the shah's rule in Tehran in 1953, or the U.S. intervention in Lebanon in 1958. As soon as Britain and France left the Middle East, the United States became the dominant power and the No. 1 target. Another bit of suggestive evidence is that the fiercest (unofficial) anti-Americanism emanates from Washington's self-styled allies in the Arab Middle East, Egypt and Saudi Arabia. Is this situation because of Israel-or because it is so convenient for these regimes to "busy giddy minds with foreign quarrels" (as Shakespeare's Henry IV put it) to distract their populations from their dependence on the "Great Satan"?

Take the Cairo Declaration against "U.S. hegemony," endorsed by 400 delegates from across the Middle East and the West in December 2002. The lengthy indictment mentions Palestine only peripherally. The central condemnation, uttered in profuse variation, targets the United States for monopolizing power "within the framework of capitalist globalization," for reinstating "colonialism," and for blocking the "emergence of forces that would shift the balance of power toward multi-polarity." In short, Global America is responsible for all the afflictions of the Arab world, with Israel coming in a distant second.

This familiar tale has an ironic twist: One of the key signers is Nader Fergany, lead author of the 2002 U.N. Arab Human Development Report. So even those who confess to the internal failures of the Arab world end up blaming "the Other." Given the enormity of the indictment, ditching Israel will not absolve the United States. Iran's Khomeinists have it right, so to speak, when they denounce America as the "Great Satan" and Israel only as the "Little Satan," a handmaiden of U.S. power. What really riles America-haters in the Middle East is Washington's intrusion into their affairs, be it for reasons of oil, terrorism, or weapons of mass destruction. This fact is why Osama bin Laden, having attached himself to the Palestinian cause only as an afterthought, calls the Americans the new crusaders, and the Jews their imperialist stand-ins.

None of this is to argue in favor of Israel's continued occupation of the West Bank and Gaza, nor to excuse the cruel hardship it imposes on the Palestinians, which is pernicious, even for Israel's own soul. But as this analysis suggests, the real source of Arab angst is the West as a palpable symbol of misery and an irresistible target of what noted Middle East scholar Fouad Ajami has called "Arab rage." The puzzle is why so many Westerners, like those who signed the Cairo Declaration, believe otherwise. Is this anti-Semitism, as so many Jews are quick to suspect? No, but denying Israel's legitimacy bears an uncanny resemblance to some central features of this darkest of creeds. Accordingly, the Jews are omnipotent, ubiquitous, and thus responsible for the evils of the world.

Today, Israel finds itself in an analogous position, either as handmaiden or manipulator of U.S. might. The soft version sighs: "If only Israel were more reasonable..." The semihard version demands that "the United States pull the rug out from under Israel" to impose the pliancy that comes from impotence. And the hard-hard version dreams about salvation springing from Israel's disappearance.

Why, sure-if it weren't for that old joke from Israel's War of Independence: While the bullets were whistling overhead and the two Jews in their foxhole were running out of rounds, one griped, "If the Brits had to give us a country not their own, why couldn't they have given us Switzerland?" Alas, Israel is just a strip of land in the world's most noxious neighborhood, and the cleanup hasn't even begun.