Welcome to the second edition of Politics Tuesday. The subject for today is Iraq.
A report from Newsweek suggests that Bush will hold off on replacing Rumsfeld until “after Dec. 29 ‘as a personal gesture to Rumsfeld.’ On that date Rumsfeld would become the longest-serving Defense secretary, beating Robert McNamara’s record of 85 months.” Which is, of course, perfectly reasonable because it’s not like there are any defense-related problems that demand action in the next month.
Even if it’s purely symbolic, the symbolism seems pretty hard to wrap my mind around. Rumsfeld is already high up on the list for worst Defense secretaries, do we really need to call even more attention to him by making him the longest-serving one, too?
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As for Iraq, it’s a civil war. It’s not an insurgency. It’s a civil war. Almost two-thirds of the American people know this is true. Even some major media sources are finally coming around. The Talking Points Memo suggests that while it might not meet some definitions of civil war, it is arguably even worse: the anarchy of a failed state.
This is not just an esoteric debate about terminology – there are real consequences to the obfuscation. If it were generally understood to be a civil war, public disillusionment would grow over continued troop presence and with the Administration for getting us into this mess.
Potentially even more important, however, is the way that the threat of civil war comes to frame the entire premise of the war. As long as what we are up against is an insurgency, the perception of the US as a liberator and bringer of democracy is able to hold. Against the chaos, we hold the line. However, once we understand that it is already a civil war (and has been for a long time), the narrative changes. Not only have US forces been unable to enforce the peace, we must begin to realize that it was a false hope from the very beginning.
This problem cannot be solved militarily, even if we had twice as many troops, because it is a question of the hearts and minds of those in Iraq, not a simple matter of military aggression. There is a war, but it is not against the United States except insofar as we created the conditions for it and will inevitably be perceived as taking sides.
The point of this is that the hard decisions about Iraq policy to come may be less meaningful than we might expect. Whether it is the Baker Commission recommendations, the Bush Administration’s plan, or some other option that comes from Gates or the Democrats, any policy is likely to continue to strive for an honorable exit, one that does not diminish the United States. I worry that the debates about which approach best accomplishes this goal will obscure the reality: none of them can. Violence will escalate if we withdraw, but it probably also will if stay. And even if it does not, there is no peace to be had–no light at the end of the tunnel–and the troops cannot stay there forever. If not now, they will return in two years. Or three, or four.
Even those who see a path to eventual peace, such as Andrew Cordesman, of the Center for Strategic and International Studies, only see it coming if the US commits to many more years of full troop presence AND fundamentally alters its basic assumptions about the readiness of Iraqi forces. The problem is that public support only remains as high as it does because of the obfuscation that suggests we are close to finishing the job. It is impossible to imagine willingness to support an explicit commitment to five or six more years, at the least.
That is the paradox: we cannot possibly “win” unless we admit how much it will take and how far away it really is. But it is politically impossible to do so–even McCain and his buddies calling for 20,000 more troops are still miles away from a true assessment of the situation.
The sad reality is that there is no solution, a point made eloquently by Chuck Hagel, Republican Senator from Nebraska, in Sunday’s Washington Post: “Militaries are built to fight and win wars, not bind together failing nations. We are once again learning a very hard lesson in foreign affairs: America cannot impose a democracy on any nation — regardless of our noble purpose.” He is right – there is next to nothing we can do for Iraq now and the only option may be to withdraw.
This is thoroughly unsatisfying, as it admits that we will be abandoning the country to violence and chaos for the forseeable future. Not just that, but we must do so while recognizing that we are at fault for creating the situation and powerless to stop it. But guilt cannot and should not convince us to keep making the same mistake in the hope that if we refuse to admit the reality of the situation, it will somehow change. Some situations cannot be fixed no matter how much it pains our souls.
This will be a hard pill to swallow, and I don’t expect significant changes anytime soon. The new Democratic majority, elected in part because of the failure of our current policy, may have a slightly firmer grip on reality, but they will still insist on finding a workable solution. This may be better than the reign of Rumsfeld, but I fear that the search for a solution will only get them as attached to the controversy in a manner that will do little to help us get out.
In the end, I fear the only resolution we can gain from Iraq is to learn a lesson that we ought have understood after Vietnam: overwhelming military strength is a blunt instrument and is no substitute for wisdom.
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Speaking of Vietnam, we have recently passed another worrying milestone. As of Sunday, the Iraq war has lasted longer than US involvement in World War II. Only the Civil War, the Revolutionary War, and Vietnam lasted longer, and we’re only a few months away from passing the Civil War. Of the remaining two, it would serve us well to remember that in both cases the ragtag insurgent forces soundly defeated an opposing force with overwhelming military and economic advantages.
Exploring the parallels between Iraq and Vietnam is a lengthy endeavor and may be the subject of a future post, but suffice to say: there are many, and they are not encouraging.
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What was it all for? Andrew Greeley has a polemical and emotional answer: “all these losses, all this suffering, all these shattered families were unnecessary.” I agree with him that the most depressing part of the Iraq war is the sense of futility it inspires. Death is never good, but there are many causes worth dying for: freedom, justice, a safe future where people have more oppoortunities to choose the course of their life. All of these ideals were invoked for this war (both for our country and for Iraq), but it is difficult to see how it has helped lead us toward any of them.
There may not be an answer to that question, but it is of vital importance that it continue to be asked. This point was made clearly before the war even began, by Sleater-Kinney. In a time when this country was filled with grief after 9-11 they were one of the few voices to rise in protest. In August of 2002, they released One Beat, which in my book is the best album of their long and prolific career.
With the possible challenger of Springsteen’s The Rising, this is the definitive musical engagement with America’s political identity in the first years of the 21st century. And while I do love The Rising, it is a little too inwardly focused to truly rise to the call. As a study of our reactions to tragedy, it is essential. As a call to arms and demand for a more honest assessment of the state of the world, nothing matches Sleater-Kinney.
Paying homage to the Clash song of the same name, this song questions the uniformity of response to 9-11 and notes the dearth of musical protest to the Administration’s responses: “Our country’s marching to the beat now / And we must learn to step in time / Where is the questioning? Where is the protest song?” In this void, they begin to ask questions that should have been on the minds of everyone, most notably:
Are we innocent, paragons of good?
Is our guilt erased by the pain that we’ve endured?
The answer to these questions may also be the answer to the question I posed: “what was it all for?” The sad truth may very well be that this war is the result of our fear and desire for vengeance. With remarkable prescience, they foretold what was to come: a show of brute force accepting by the public because it helped reassure us of the power and glory of the United States. It worked for awhile, but as the situation fails improve, more innocents die, and US hegemony looks to be more and more of a chimera the haze is slowly lifting.
The only question now is whether we’ve learned our lesson or if history will have to repeat itself again and again.
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Yet another depressing factoid: the cost of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan will catapult past the $500 billion mark in 2007. 500 billion dollars. With that amount of money, we could have guaranteed health care for every American, relieved the crushing debt of every country in the global South, invested a ton of money in renewable energy, and given everyone in the country a $20 gift certificate at Ikea while they were at it.
R.E.M. released this song as a free MP3 in 2003, in an effort to encourage restraint and thoughtful consideration. In contrast to the fiery tone of most political songs, this one is far more introspective, asking us to reflect on the choices we make. In accepting our weakness, we have much more capacity to take truly bold actions. A country driven by fear created the Iraq war; a country driven by love could have created better lives for millions. It is a harder route, but it is worth taking.