Over the horizon
IN A REMOTE CORNER OF EASTERN AFRICA, BEHIND tiers of razor wire and concrete blast walls, it’s possible to get a glimpse of America’s unending war on terrorism. Camp Lemonnier, a 550-acre military base, houses U.S. special-operations teams tasked with fighting the world’s most powerful al-Qaeda affiliates. Unfolding over miles of sun-scorched desert and volcanic rock inside the tiny country of Djibouti, the base looks—the troops stationed here will tell you—like a sand-colored prison fortress.
Inside, two subcamps sit behind opaque 20-ft. fences ringed with yet more razor wire. The commando teams emerge anonymously from behind the gates and board lumbering cargo planes to fly across Djibouti’s southern border with Somalia for what they call “episodic engagements” with local forces fighting al-Shabab, al-Qaeda’s largest offshoot. General Stephen Townsend, commander of military operations in Africa, describes it as “commuting to work.” The Pentagon has dubbed the mission Operation Octave Quartz.
The operation may be a sign of things to come. Despite President Joe Biden’s pledges to end America’s “forever wars,” he doesn’t plan a retreat from global counterterrorism missions. One month after his chaotic Afghan pullout, Biden is continuing the work his predecessors began, drawing down high-profile military missions abroad while keeping heavily armed, highly engaged counterterrorism task forces in place in trouble spots. The President plans to fight terrorism from “over the horizon,” he says, parachuting in special operators, using drones and intercepted intelligence, and training partner foreign forces.
Some 1,500 miles northeast of Lemonnier, about 2,500 U.S. forces operate from bases across Iraq, where they routinely come under rocket and mortar attack. An additional 900 forces are
