No one should
have been surprised that general Petraeus and
ambassador Crocker’s presentation to the House of
Representatives was scheduled for September 11,
exactly six years after the fall of the World Trade
Center. What was perhaps surprising was that, while
the public was waiting for this report, the
president had managed to hold at bay the new (and
fragile) democratic majority, preventing it from
using the August break to mobilize a public opinion
that is clearly tired and discouraged by an
adventure that has lasted more than four years. The
goals that are supposed to be attained are
constantly changing as the end of the war recedes
from year to year. Yet it was George Bush who used
the month of August to take to the offensive.
Whereas his critics had compared the quagmire in
Iraq to the earlier one in Vietnam, the president
began to remind people that the precipitous retreat
from Vietnam had added new words to the political
vocabulary—boat people in Vietnam, killing
fields in Cambodia. Added to the constantly
repeated threat of terrorism on the home front,
Bush’s new use of the Vietnam analogy has to be
understood as part of a longer term strategy.
In order to see
what is at issue, it is useful to step back from the
immediate issues. That is one advantage of writing
for a foreign public: you’re forced to condense
your ideas, to go to the essence, and above all to
avoid the polemical temptation of satisfying your
emotions at the cost of clouding your judgement.
That’s what I did in the “op ed” that I published in
Ouest-France on September 10th,
which serves as the basis for this enlarged English
version.
I’m adding here to that argument some introductory
remarks that take into account Bush’s Address to the
Nation of September 13; and I will conclude with
some reflections on the longer-term implications of
Bush’s politics.
I
Bush’s Address to the Nation was the eighth such
speech in which he has used a televised speech to
explain the political choices he has made concerning
Iraq. His first speech (of March 19, 2003)
announced the invasion, which he said was justified
by the threat of Weapons of Mass Destruction (WMD’s)
in the hands of a dictator. It was followed quickly
(on May 1, 2003) by the proclamation of a rapid
victory that would permit the reconstruction of a
country in which liberty would soon triumph. A year
later (on April 13, 2004), conditions had worsened;
now the speech had to deny that there was in fact a
civil war in Iraq while again promising the
inevitable progress of democratic freedom. In the
meanwhile, in November 2004, George Bush was
re-elected in spite of the doubts that were
increasing among the public. The candidate waged a
volontarist campaign in which he used the threat of
terrorist attacks along with a series of vicious
attacks on the democratic candidate, who was accused
of being a “flip-flopper” who would be incapable of
taking the strict measures necessary to prevent
threats to the homeland.
The situation
continued to worsen, however, and the series of
Addresses to the Nation continued as well. The
promise of victory was repeated in the speech of
December 18, 2005, but nine months later the tone
changed radically during the Congressional campaign
of 2006. The president no longer stressed the
reconstruction of a democratic Iraq but—five years
after 9/11—he once again insisted on the specter of
a terrorism that would strike us at home if we were
to retreat from Iraq. But this time, the rhetoric
didn’t work; the democrats won both houses of
Congress, and the president was forced to reckon
with the new situation. Thus, his Speech of January
10, 2007 announced a new strategy for Iraq, while
redefining what “victory” would mean. He explained
that he would send reinforcements that would help
the Iraqis to take control of their capital,
Baghdad, giving political space for the organization
of a national government. Three months later, March
19 2007, he once again appealed to the nation,
repeating his hope that the 30,000 troops dispatched
in the “surge” were creating the breathing space
that would permit the Maliki government to reach the
“benchmarks” that had been set by Congress as the
condition for continued American support in the
future. In the meanwhile, his message to the public
was summarized in one word, “patience.”
The public
reaction to the Petraeus-Crocker report, which was
supposed to present an evaluation of the results of
the “surge,” was mixed. The public is tired of an
engagement that doesn’t seem anywhere near its
end—but which doesn’t really affect it directly, in
spite of the deaths of over 3,700 soldiers (more
than the total of those who died in the attacks of
9/11!), the wounding of a large number of others (of
whom nearly no one speaks), and the expenditure of
unbelievable amounts of money to maintain the
troops, their equipment and supplies. The hearings
in the House were introduced by Ike Skelton of
Missouri, who made the absolutely pertinent
observation that “our constitutional responsibility
is to insure that the American military forces can
deter and, if necessary, vanquish any threat to our
interests… But the soldiers stationed in Iraq cannot
be used elsewhere.”
It was downhill from there, for the most part. The
next day, when he appeared before the Senate,
general Petraeus was unable to slip around the
crucial question—“Does the war in Iraq increase
Americans’ security?” His admission that “In fact,
I don’t know the answer,” never got the follow up it
deserved.
The president’s
Address the following evening did not provide any
answers either. The (or most of the) troops sent
during the “surge” will be coming home next spring;
after that there will be a new evaluation by the
military commanders. That was no real surprise,
since it was made necessary by material constraints
on men and machinery. What was perhaps surprising
was that George Bush, “the decider,” felt no need to
even refer to the Congressional debate on the
occasion of the Petraeus-Crocker report.
II
In November
2006, one might have thought that the democrats’
electoral victory, along with the publication of the
Baker-Hamilton report, was the prelude to a
reduction or pull-out of American forces in Iraq,
along with the opening of a new diplomatic track.
But the opposite occurred: 30,000 new troops were
sent as part of the surge. The only concession made
to the democrats was that the commander of American
forces in Iraq, David Petraeus, and the ambassador
in Baghdad, Ryan Crocker, will present to Congress
this week [i.e., September 11 and 12] their report
on the military and political situation.
General
Petraeus became known to the public for his
successes during the occupation of Mossoul in 2004.
He’s a skillful orator, capable of dressing his
message well, strutting his medals and proud of his
Princeton Ph.D. But he is not above criticism. In
an op ed published in the Washington Post six
weeks before the 2004 elections, he spoke of
“tangible progress” and of a “reversal of the
situation” in Iraq. One might wonder whether he has
succeeded in the meanwhile in erasing the memory of
this clear support of the Bush candidacy.
It is rather
strange that an America that is so proud of its
democracy, puts its faith in a general for making a
decision of such importance.
George Bush justifies that anti-political choice by
saying that “this decision will be based on a cold
evaluation by our military commanders rather than on
a nervous reaction by the politicians in
Washington.” He doesn’t mention the opinion of the
American public as having any weight in the matter.
There is
nonetheless a troubling precedent for this faith. I
refer of course to the speech of Colin Powell at the
United Nations in 2003. That seasoned general, who
benefited from an impeccable reputation, was at the
time the Secretary of State of George Bush. Saddam
Hussein, Powell assured his listeners, possessed
weapons of mass destruction that he would not
hesitate to use if he was not hit first by a
preventive strike. The results of Powell’s
assurances are, alas, too well known to need further
comment—even if all the failures in Iraq can hardly
be laid at the door of the former Secretary of
State, who soldiered on through the end of Bush’s
first term, even while keeping his criticisms to
himself.
American
political leaders cannot avoid the hard realities.
Even if the surge seems to be working at least in
some provinces, the army is at the brink of
exhaustion. For technical reasons, it will be
necessary to begin to draw down the forces in Iraq
next April—unless one wants to re-introduce the
draft, a choice that would lead to a real anti-war
movement, more like the one of Vietnam days.
During his
surprise visit to Iraq at the beginning of
September, Bush avoided Baghdad, preferring to visit
a base in Anbar province, a region where Sunni
leaders, disgusted by the extremism of the so-called
Al Qaeda in Iraq, have formed an alliance with the
American forces. The message he was conveying was
that the future would no longer be hostage to the
incompetent leaders in Baghdad, who are too
concerned with their religious quarrels and their
mafioso turf wars to create a stable government.
From this point of view, the Congress would no
longer have any excuse to refuse the 50 billion
supplementary dollars requested by the White House.
But there is
another striking fact that challenges Bush’s plans:
the construction of the American embassy in
Baghdad. This enormous project will be roughly the
size of Vatican City; it will contain 21 buildings
on some 104 acres of land, including 619 one-bedroom
apartments, a gym and swimming pool facility, as
well as (American) restaurants. The whole complex
will be surrounded by a wall that will be 16 feet
deep. And of course, given the state of the
infrastructure in Iraq, the embassy will generate
its own water and electricity. The cost of this
immense project is to be roughly 592 million
dollars.
There is no
need to underline the effect that the construction
of this massive abode for the American proconsuls in
the region will have not only on Iraqis but on their
neighbors. One does not construct such a fortress
without intending to stay for a good length of time.
Yet one can ask
what use an embassy built with the intention of
acting in a centralized country will have in
present-day Iraq. Given that American diplomats
cannot leave the infamous Green Zone without armed
escorts, how will they be able to follow and help
along the process of decentralisation that Bush is
now proposing. It is well known that a large part
of the civilian aid sent to Iraq does not reach its
intended recipients due to the lack of security. In
addition, closed behind their thick walls, American
diplomats will hardly be able to practice a kind of
public diplomacy that would permit the opening of
communications among the Iraqi factions.
Whatever the
Petraeus report proposes, and whatever the decisions
made by a Congress that is run by a (very small)
democratic majority, that embassy is the symbol of
the lack of a coherent politics. Perhaps someone
should remind Bush of the advice given by Vermont
senator George Aiken to Lyndon Johnson during the
Vietnam war: Declare victory and leave!
III
Rather than
follow the wise advice of his various advisers and
study commissions, the president who calls himself
solipsistically the Decider, will follow his own
adventure as far and as long as he can. But he now
openly accepts the fact that the Iraq affair “will
continue beyond my presidency.” This is a
remarkable admission. How many times did he promise
victory, and how many times did he find rhetorical
means to put off its achievement? Indeed, the term
“victory” was replaced in his recent speech by the
term “success,’ which he used thirteen times during
that 15 minute allocution. In effect, the
president is admitting his weakness; he wipes clean
his hands of the future, and passes to his successor
the necessity to fulfill Colin Powell’s so-called
“Pottery Barn imperative”: you broke it, you pay
for it…
Once again,
George Bush justified his political decision by
appealing to the authority of the armed forces
experts, accepting general Petraeus’ request to wait
another six months before evaluating again the
results of the surge. He didn’t speak at all about
the political failures of the Iraqi government, nor
of the daily life of the civilian population in a
country that is increasingly wounded and divided.
All that he wants to do, apparently, is to put off
the point at which final decisions must be made.
One might wonder whether, somewhere in that soul
which is so convinced of the justice of his cause,
he harbors the hope that a miracle will redeem his
wild bet. Perhaps that’s why he repeated several
times the phrase, “it is never too late…” But
psychology cannot replace political analysis.
George Bush is what he is, but the presidency—and
above all the future of the republican party—are not
identical with him.
Two other
interpretations of the president’s strategy are
worth considering. The first builds on the analogy
with Vietnam. If Bush, after denying its relevance
for so long, began to use the comparison to his own
advantage during the summer vacation, the reason is
not that he suddenly feels pity for the potential
victims of an American withdrawal. (In fact, the
American treatment of both internal and external
refugees is disgraceful, and the fact that no
provision has been made for visas for Iraqis who
have worked with the Americans is scandalous.) What
more likely happened is that the president’s
political advisers pointed out to him that the
republican party had drawn credit and credibility by
appealing to the myth that the domestic opposition
is to blame for the withdrawal of an army that was
in the process of defeating the Vietcong. They used
the old story of the knife-in-the-back wielded by a
fifth column (the Dolchstosslegende that was
so effective for the right wing forces in Germany
after World War I) to discredit their opponents.
In this way, Bush’s republican advisors seem to be
assuming that despite the nearly inevitable defeat
in 2008, they will have well prepared their revenge
in 2012—and are all the more assured of success
insofar as there are no simple solutions to the
Iraqi imbroglio.
This first
interpretation assumes that a democrat elected in
2008 would withdraw quickly and without hesitation
from Iraq.
But, within this framework, it becomes important to
consider the implications of that gigantic embassy
that is being build in Baghdad. It is strange that
neither the media nor the politicians have talked
about it. It’s as if no one is willing to admit the
symbolic, and real, weight of that edifice. The
America that it represents has become a sort of new
Rome, an imperial republic that is forced to make
geo-political choices that conflict with the values
that are the very foundation of its power. The
classic historical experience is being repeated.
Every high school graduate knows the famous Funeral
Oration that Pericles delivered at the end of the
first year of the long Peloponnesian War in praise
of the Athenian democracy. But that student
probably never read the final discourse of the great
man of Athenian democracy. Speaking to a people who
were tired of a war that seemed to go on and on,
Pericles warned his fellow citizens: “What you hold
is, to speak frankly, a despotism; perhaps it was
wrong to take it, but to let it go is unsafe.”
One might well say that Pericles was holding up a
mirror to Americans who are too idealistic to
recognize the “hard realities” in Iraq.
Many
commentators speak of the ideological hegemony of
the neo-conservatives who have become crusaders for
democracy. But that description hardly fits men
like Dick Cheney or Donald Rumsfeld. They are
realists, used to the practice of geo-politics and
indifferent to the importance of values. For a long
time, I refused to accept the reductive notion that
the invasion of Iraq was motivated by petroleum
interests.
I still think that there were other motivations for
the American action, certain of which remain valid.
Nonetheless, I keep coming back to that imposing
embassy that brings back to mind once again the fate
of the classical republics. Our leaders are not
comparable to Pericles—although certain of them may
think of themselves as Caesars—but they seem to have
recognized that the future of the Pax Americana
depends on controlling a crucial geo-political
region. But what they have not recognized is that
they are playing all-or-nothing. And that it will
be necessary, if things go badly, that they be able
to find support from a public that recognizes its
own values in their adventure.
George Bush’s
Address to the Nation of September 13 was in fact
aimed at only a small part of that nation—the
“moderate” republicans who would be tempted to join
with the democrats to oppose a presidential veto of
a more realistic strategy in Iraq. This tactical
goal was easily achieved since the democrats are
divided, and will remain divided as long as the
primaries continue to tempt one or another candidate
or group to up the ante rather than discuss a longer
term strategy.
No doubt Bush’s (non)political way of kicking the
can down the road will be accepted, even though it
proposes simply the continuation of an impossible
task.
But there
remains that residence of the American proconsuls
being constructed in Baghdad. What will be its
future? And that of Iraq? And that of our
republic?
(Translated by the author from the French original)