While Bush formulates a new plan for Iraq, and others say all is lost there no matter what, I'm reminded of a famous "all is lost" moment from that ever-festering sore of history, the Vietnam War: Walter Cronkite's editorial on Tet.
Cronkite's famous post-Tet broadcast of February 27, 1968, delivered on the CBS Evening News, is widely regarded as a turning point in the Vietnam War, as well as broadcast journalism. It caused President Johnson to famously say, "If I've lost Cronkite, I've lost the country," and was apparently instrumental in Johnson's decision to drop out of the 1968 Presidential race.
Those too young to remember may find such a set of circumstances almost impossible to believe. But Walter Cronkite,"the most trusted man in America" during his 18-year tenure as the anchor for the CBS evening news, is widely regarded to have had great influence on public opinion.
Take a moment to mull that one over and contemplate how the times they have a'changed: it would not seem possible for a major network anchor to be the "most trusted man in America" today (and, by the way, that "most trusted" designation wasn't just hyperbole; Cronkite was actually judged that in a Gallup Poll of the time. And, of course, today it would be "the most trusted person in America." But I digress.)
The avuncular Cronkite (and it seems no piece on Cronkite can avoid that perfect description of the man: "avuncular") held America's trust for most of his time at the job. Was it simply a more naive era? The fact that so many Americans got their news from that TV half hour (which Cronkite was instrumental in making a full half hour rather than the 15 minutes he originally inherited) through either CBS, or NBC's rival Huntley-Brinkley, made it seem as though the truth were being told there--after all, there were few competing stories to hear.
And do not underestimate Cronkite's voice and demeanor, perfect for television. Never slick, not handsome, he seemed profoundly sincere, with a deep and resonant voice and a slight (at least to me) resemblance to another familiar and fatherly icon of the times with the same first name, Walt Disney. Cronkite had distinguished himself during his coverage of the Kennedy assassination, displaying controlled but moving emotion as he took off his glasses to announce the President's death. It was a deep bonding with the US public through a traumatic time.
Cronkite earned his trust the hard way: by reporting the unvarnished news. In this 2002 radio interview (well worth listening to for insight into his thought process at the time) Cronkite describes his orientation towards his job prior to that watershed moment of the Tet offensive broadcast.
Previously the top brass at CBS, as well as the reporters there, had understood their function to be reporting "the facts, just the facts." Editorializing was kept strictly separate; at CBS, it was a function of Eric Sevareid, and clearly labeled as such.
The president of CBS news, Dick Salant, was a man of almost fanatical devotion to the principles of non-editorializing journalism, according to Cronkite's interview. Cronkite said that, till Tet, he "almost wouldn't let us put an adjective in a sentence" when reporting, he'd been such a stickler for "just the facts."
But, according to Cronkite, as the Vietnamese War had worn on, and because of the confusion of the American people about the war, reflected in letters to the station, Salant sent Cronkite on a trip to Vietnam with the idea of doing a piece of opinion journalism when he came back, in order to help the American people "understand" what was going on by explicitly editorializing and advising them.
One can speculate long and hard about why Salant decided it was time to make such a drastic change. From Cronkite's interview, it appears that the brass at CBS was part of the turmoil of the 60s with its "question authority" ethos. If you listen to Cronkite (and he expresses not a moment's ambivalence about his actions), you may hear, as I did, an anger at a military that seemed heedless of the difficulties of the Vietnam endeavor, and too sanguine--similar to the "cakewalk" accusation towards the present Iraq War.
Another fact that becomes apparent in the Cronkite interview is that he felt personally betrayed by the military men he'd talked to as Vietnam churned on. He'd been a war correspondent in the Second World War, and that conflict, in which the press had been heavily censored, had featured public pronouncements of public optimism but private "off the record" discussions with the press that were more realistic and often more gloomy. Cronkite had been privy to these. But during Vietnam, when there was no official censorship, the military self-censored when talking to the press--they were profoundly optimistic, because they knew everything they said would be reported. Cronkite seemed miffed that he wasn't given the inside info, as he had been in WWII.
Cronkite is up-front about these differences in his interview. I think it's ironic that, if there had been more censorship during the Vietnam War, war correspondents such as Cronkite might have understood better where the military was coming from and might have cut them some slack. However, that's mere speculation. What actually happened is that Cronkite felt betrayed, and he and Salant thought the American people had been betrayed, and they felt it was important enough that they needed to break their own long-standing rule and spill the beans to the American people.
It never seems to have occurred to them, of course, that in reacting to Tet as they did they were participating in a different falsehood, the propagation of North Vietnamese propaganda about the situation.
Whatever Cronkite's motivations may have been, it's hard to overestimate the effect it had when he suddenly stated on air that the meaning of Tet was that the situation in Vietnam was hopelessly stalemated and the war could not be won. We're used to this sort of thing now, and many of us have learned to brush it off. But then, to much of America, Cronkite's was the voice of trusted authority that could not be denied--despite the fact that he had no special expertise to make such a proclamation.
Of course, we are reaping the fruit of that moment today. Journalism has changed, and not for the better, mixing opinion and facts in messy attempts to influence public opinion rather than inform. In connection with that radio interview, for example, see this statement, rather typical of the genre:
It was a bold move for Cronkite, and it was an seminal moment for journalism, to go beyond the reporting of events, to tell a conflicted people a higher truth, something beyond the cataloguing of casualties or shifting front lines.
To tell a conflicted people a higher truth. That seems to say it all, does it not?
[ADDENDUM: Here is the text of Cronkite's Tet statement:
"Report from Vietnam," Walter Cronkite Broadcast, February 27, 1968.
Tonight, back in more familiar surroundings in New York, we'd like to sum up our findings in Vietnam, an analysis that must be speculative, personal, subjective. Who won and who lost in the great Tet offensive against the cities? I'm not sure. The Vietcong did not win by a knockout, but neither did we. The referees of history may make it a draw. Another standoff may be coming in the big battles expected south of the Demilitarized Zone. Khesanh could well fall, with a terrible loss in American lives, prestige and morale, and this is a tragedy of our stubbornness there; but the bastion no longer is a key to the rest of the northern regions, and it is doubtful that the American forces can be defeated across the breadth of the DMZ with any substantial loss of ground. Another standoff. On the political front, past performance gives no confidence that the Vietnamese government can cope with its problems, now compounded by the attack on the cities. It may not fall, it may hold on, but it probably won't show the dynamic qualities demanded of this young nation. Another standoff.
We have been too often disappointed by the optimism of the American leaders, both in Vietnam and Washington, to have faith any longer in the silver linings they find in the darkest clouds. They may be right, that Hanoi's winter-spring offensive has been forced by the Communist realization that they could not win the longer war of attrition, and that the Communists hope that any success in the offensive will improve their position for eventual negotiations. It would improve their position, and it would also require our realization, that we should have had all along, that any negotiations must be that-negotiations, not the dictation of peace terms. For it seems now more certain than ever that the bloody experience of Vietnam is to end in a stalemate. This summer's almost certain standoff will either end in real give-and-take negotiations or terrible escalation; and for every means we have to escalate, the enemy can match us, and that applies to invasion of the North, the use of nuclear weapons, or the mere commitment of one hundred, or two hundred, or three hundred thousand more American troops to the battle. And with each escalation, the world comes closer to the brink of cosmic disaster.
To say that we are closer to victory today is to believe, in the face of the evidence, the optimists who have been wrong in the past. To suggest we are on the edge of defeat is to yield to unreasonable pessimism. To say that we are mired in stalemate seems the only realistic, yet unsatisfactory, conclusion. On the off chance that military and political analysts are right, in the next few months we must test the enemy's intentions, in case this is indeed his last big gasp before negotiations. But it is increasingly clear to this reporter that the only rational way out then will be to negotiate, not as victors, but as an honorable people who lived up to their pledge to defend democracy, and did the best they could.
This is Walter Cronkite. Good night.]
Monday, December 18, 2006
Saturday, December 16, 2006
Don't mean to beat a dead ISG horse, but...
The ISG report seems to be dead in the water. And that's a good thing. The idea behind the report was to get us all to come together, and we did. The only problem is we came together in condemning it.
Krauthammer sees the ISG report as having given Bush "one last chance to alter course on Iraq." In James Baker and his clueless cronies, Bush has been lucky in his opponents--as he so often is. Their suggestions were so inept that the report has temporarily revived the seemingly moribund Bush and given him at least a chance to regroup. And whatever new plan for Iraq he may come up with can hardly help but seem better than the utterly astounding ISG suggestion of begging Iran and Syria for assistance.
Dean Barnett is, likewise, happy that the ISG report took only a mere eight days to find--as he puts it--"history's ashbin." He calls for a new Churchill to define the path back to "greatness," something for which the American people yearn.
Unfortunately, as a Churchill fan, I have to say I don't expect one to be waiting in the wings.
Churchill was sui generis, as well as being very much a man of his times--which was acknowledged to be an earlier time even than World War II. His sort of rhetoric was not only unique, it was grounded in an age long past, and especially British (Tony Blair, for example, comes closer to it than any American ever could. Although not close enough.)
Nor do I think Dean himself really expects a Churchill to emerge. But he is looking for someone who can inspire and clearly articulate what we are fighting for. Someone who doesn't shirk from asking for sacrifice, and who does not gloss over hardship, but who understands why he/she is requesting it, and what is so important about this fight.
"Leadership" is an old-fashioned word, and a concept towards which many are suspicious. But without it, and without clear vision of success, we flounder.
Krauthammer sees the ISG report as having given Bush "one last chance to alter course on Iraq." In James Baker and his clueless cronies, Bush has been lucky in his opponents--as he so often is. Their suggestions were so inept that the report has temporarily revived the seemingly moribund Bush and given him at least a chance to regroup. And whatever new plan for Iraq he may come up with can hardly help but seem better than the utterly astounding ISG suggestion of begging Iran and Syria for assistance.
Dean Barnett is, likewise, happy that the ISG report took only a mere eight days to find--as he puts it--"history's ashbin." He calls for a new Churchill to define the path back to "greatness," something for which the American people yearn.
Unfortunately, as a Churchill fan, I have to say I don't expect one to be waiting in the wings.
Churchill was sui generis, as well as being very much a man of his times--which was acknowledged to be an earlier time even than World War II. His sort of rhetoric was not only unique, it was grounded in an age long past, and especially British (Tony Blair, for example, comes closer to it than any American ever could. Although not close enough.)
Nor do I think Dean himself really expects a Churchill to emerge. But he is looking for someone who can inspire and clearly articulate what we are fighting for. Someone who doesn't shirk from asking for sacrifice, and who does not gloss over hardship, but who understands why he/she is requesting it, and what is so important about this fight.
"Leadership" is an old-fashioned word, and a concept towards which many are suspicious. But without it, and without clear vision of success, we flounder.
Parties. Holidays. Home.
Those of you who've followed my mother's journey to a new assisted living facility located in the NY community where she lived for most of her life might be interested in learning there's good news and bad.
First, the bad. She absolutely detests the place. Every time we talk--which is almost every day--she complains: the food stinks, the people likewise. Some of it may be hyperbole, but it may just very well all be true.
Her apartment itself isn't the problem. It's a studio, yes. But even though it's only got one room, the ceilings are high, and huge multiple windows on two sides give it an air of great spaciousness and openness. Likewise, the staff is pleasant and fairly responsive.
When you're in a place like that, though, and almost ninety-three, the food and--for want of a better word, your fellow inmates--are really the thing. And she's unequivocally negative about both.
So, what's the good news? She sounds very happy nonetheless. Happier than she's sounded in many years. Her voice--always an instant giveaway to her mood, as far back as I can remember--is light and energetic, and her mind seems very sharp.
I think the reason for her good spirits is clear. As I wrote here, she's home.
In the eighty-eight years she lived in that community, she probably knew thousands of people, many of them well, many of them from childhood. Even though that huge group of friends has now been sharply culled by death and time, it was originally so extraordinarily large that the survivors still constitute a fairly large number.
That means she gets a couple of phone calls on a daily basis from old friends she hasn't seen in the five years since she moved to New England to be near me when her significant other (boyfriend, that is) died in 2001 at the age of ninety-four. A couple of times a week they've taken her out--to lunch, to dinner. To the golf/tennis club she was a member of for forty years, to our old home (sold in the early 90s), to the hamburger joint that opened in the 50s to great fanfare, even to the museum where she used to volunteer and where she still might be able to.
Don't ever underestimate the power of that sort of community to lift the spirits. It grounds her in a particular space and a particular history, rather than the far northern city where she lived near me, a random place with random people with no significance for her, however lovely or however friendly it or they may have been.
I've been thinking a lot lately about the concept of "home." One reason, of course, is my mother. Another, as I mentioned in my piece about her move, is that I've been contemplating a move myself. I haven't gotten too far with the process yet, but stay tuned.
This particular weekend I'm back in the New Hampshire town where I landed in the late 70s and lived for the next twenty years. I came here because of a job of my then-husband's; we stayed far past the time he held that job. Once you get set in a place and start raising kids, it becomes home, even if it isn't the home you would have chosen (too rural, too isolated, for me). And when you're cooped up with a bunch of screaming toddlers and going stir-crazy yourself--dedicated to the important task of child-rearing though you might be--the friendships you make are deep and lasting.
This weekend it's holiday party weekend; that's why I'm here. Last night I went to a celebration that's been held every year for the last twenty-five. I don't know most of the people there well anymore; never did, actually. The vast majority I only see once every year, at that very party. But there's something about knowing people over time that has a power all its own.
The food is always fabulous and copious; the hostess makes everything herself. Every couple of years she moves to a new house and seems to have a new guy--this is the first year for this home and the third for the guy (I approve, by the way, especially of the latter). But when I look at her I don't just see the present; I see the past.
The young mother with two little babies so close in age I wonder how she managed. The businesswoman who's started many successful ventures. The different hair colors. The first husband, a charmer, still a friend despite a messy divorce that broke her heart and estranged them for years (she became so startlingly thin at that time that everyone was alarmed for her health).
And that's the way it was for me and almost everyone there. If they show photos of their tall, grownup children, or give news of offsprings' marriages and even a few grandkids (something new in the mix), in my mind's eye rise images of the adorable little babies and toddlers I originally knew years ago. Some of my friends still look pretty good, themselves, but some of them wear the years harder, and they seem--well, some of them seem pretty old. And don't get me started on the topic of weight gain.
I don't think I'd ever want to move back here. It's still too rural and isolated; I'm a city girl, after all. But don't think I'm not tempted. No, it's not "home" in the sense that my mother's community is to her. But, since most of my good friends are scattered all over the country and I have very few relatives, this is probably the closest thing I have to home.
Perhaps it's the closest thing I'll ever have, although I hope not. I hope to make a new home, or even a series of successive new homes.
So, anybody got a formula for "instant home?" Or, as I suspect, is that an oxymoron?
First, the bad. She absolutely detests the place. Every time we talk--which is almost every day--she complains: the food stinks, the people likewise. Some of it may be hyperbole, but it may just very well all be true.
Her apartment itself isn't the problem. It's a studio, yes. But even though it's only got one room, the ceilings are high, and huge multiple windows on two sides give it an air of great spaciousness and openness. Likewise, the staff is pleasant and fairly responsive.
When you're in a place like that, though, and almost ninety-three, the food and--for want of a better word, your fellow inmates--are really the thing. And she's unequivocally negative about both.
So, what's the good news? She sounds very happy nonetheless. Happier than she's sounded in many years. Her voice--always an instant giveaway to her mood, as far back as I can remember--is light and energetic, and her mind seems very sharp.
I think the reason for her good spirits is clear. As I wrote here, she's home.
In the eighty-eight years she lived in that community, she probably knew thousands of people, many of them well, many of them from childhood. Even though that huge group of friends has now been sharply culled by death and time, it was originally so extraordinarily large that the survivors still constitute a fairly large number.
That means she gets a couple of phone calls on a daily basis from old friends she hasn't seen in the five years since she moved to New England to be near me when her significant other (boyfriend, that is) died in 2001 at the age of ninety-four. A couple of times a week they've taken her out--to lunch, to dinner. To the golf/tennis club she was a member of for forty years, to our old home (sold in the early 90s), to the hamburger joint that opened in the 50s to great fanfare, even to the museum where she used to volunteer and where she still might be able to.
Don't ever underestimate the power of that sort of community to lift the spirits. It grounds her in a particular space and a particular history, rather than the far northern city where she lived near me, a random place with random people with no significance for her, however lovely or however friendly it or they may have been.
I've been thinking a lot lately about the concept of "home." One reason, of course, is my mother. Another, as I mentioned in my piece about her move, is that I've been contemplating a move myself. I haven't gotten too far with the process yet, but stay tuned.
This particular weekend I'm back in the New Hampshire town where I landed in the late 70s and lived for the next twenty years. I came here because of a job of my then-husband's; we stayed far past the time he held that job. Once you get set in a place and start raising kids, it becomes home, even if it isn't the home you would have chosen (too rural, too isolated, for me). And when you're cooped up with a bunch of screaming toddlers and going stir-crazy yourself--dedicated to the important task of child-rearing though you might be--the friendships you make are deep and lasting.
This weekend it's holiday party weekend; that's why I'm here. Last night I went to a celebration that's been held every year for the last twenty-five. I don't know most of the people there well anymore; never did, actually. The vast majority I only see once every year, at that very party. But there's something about knowing people over time that has a power all its own.
The food is always fabulous and copious; the hostess makes everything herself. Every couple of years she moves to a new house and seems to have a new guy--this is the first year for this home and the third for the guy (I approve, by the way, especially of the latter). But when I look at her I don't just see the present; I see the past.
The young mother with two little babies so close in age I wonder how she managed. The businesswoman who's started many successful ventures. The different hair colors. The first husband, a charmer, still a friend despite a messy divorce that broke her heart and estranged them for years (she became so startlingly thin at that time that everyone was alarmed for her health).
And that's the way it was for me and almost everyone there. If they show photos of their tall, grownup children, or give news of offsprings' marriages and even a few grandkids (something new in the mix), in my mind's eye rise images of the adorable little babies and toddlers I originally knew years ago. Some of my friends still look pretty good, themselves, but some of them wear the years harder, and they seem--well, some of them seem pretty old. And don't get me started on the topic of weight gain.
I don't think I'd ever want to move back here. It's still too rural and isolated; I'm a city girl, after all. But don't think I'm not tempted. No, it's not "home" in the sense that my mother's community is to her. But, since most of my good friends are scattered all over the country and I have very few relatives, this is probably the closest thing I have to home.
Perhaps it's the closest thing I'll ever have, although I hope not. I hope to make a new home, or even a series of successive new homes.
So, anybody got a formula for "instant home?" Or, as I suspect, is that an oxymoron?
Friday, December 15, 2006
Taking my rightful place among bloggers on the left
I hereby join two other blogger, Michelle Malkin and Tammy Bruce, in officially declaring myself to be a woman of the Left.
Of the dominant left hand, that is. I'm not only a lefty, I'm very strongly left-handed, from an unusually left-handed family. Of the four of us--mother, father, brother, and myself--only my father was right-handed.
Although my politics have shifted my handedness has not. I was brought up in a left-handed culture, one in which the minority was right. Not only that, but several of my best friends growing up were also left-handed. So I somehow got the idea that left was best, and that it correlated with all sorts of good things such as creativity and intelligence.
And in fact, left-handedness does appear to correlate at least somewhat with those things, as well as mental slowness and certain types of brain damage. It appears the left-handed population is more likely to harbor outliers of both types--I'll leave it to my readers to determine which category I might fall into.
I've never felt left-handedness itself to be a handicap, however. Little things like having to learn to use a scissors with my right hand were a bit difficult at the outset, but now I wield one as well as anyone.
My mother, raised in the early part of the century, had a far more arduous time of it. Back then it was common practice to switch lefties, and she was forced to write and eat with her right hand. Perhaps for that reason, she's had a problem all her life in distinguishing right from left (not in the political sense, however); her spatial differentiation is somewhat poorly developed. It used to amuse me when I was little (children are so cruel!) to watch her taking a surrepticious glance at her wedding ring when asked for directions, in order to cue herself as to which was left and which was right.
I have a theory--unsubstantiated--that there's a higher-than-average number of lefties in the blogger population. I'd love to do a survey. In fact, I'd like to propose that Pajamas Media, often accused of being too heavily skewed to the right, try to redress that imbalance by trumpeting how many of its bloggers are actually lefties.
The following theory, discussed in Wiki's article on lefthandedness, conforms to my own experience, and could help explain any preponderance of lefties that might be found among bloggers, at Pajamas or otherwise:
Left-handed persons are thought to process information using a "visual simultaneous" method in which several threads can be processed simultaneously. Another way to view this is such: Suppose there were a thousand pieces of popcorn and one of them was colored pink. The right-handed person — using the linear sequential processing style — would look at the popcorn one at a time until they encountered the pink one. The left-handed person would spread out the pieces of popcorn and visually look at all of them to find the one that was pink. A side effect of these differing styles of processing is that right handed persons need to complete one task before they can start the next. Left-handed people, by contrast, are capable and comfortable switching between tasks. This makes them appear (to the right-handed majority) as if they do not finish anything. Alternately, left-handed people have an excellent ability to multi-task. Perhaps the anecdotal evidence that suggests they are more creative stems from this ability to multi-task.
This is exactly the way I seem to work.
And Wikipedia has thoughtfully compiled this list of famous lefties. Take a look. I'm not sure how valid it is, but it's fun.
The list of sports figures is exceedingly lengthy, as would be expected. The advantages of left-handedness in most sports is well-known. Musicians, likewise, seem to be legion.
But to me the most fascinating are the politicians and world figures. Sure, you'd expect Castro and Hugo Chavez to be lefties. But both Margaret Thatcher and Ronald Reagan (switched, like my mother was, and like his own politics were--he started out to the left and ended up on the right)? And how about the three Presidential candidates in 1992--Clinton, Bush I, and Perot, lefties all. What were the odds?
Of the dominant left hand, that is. I'm not only a lefty, I'm very strongly left-handed, from an unusually left-handed family. Of the four of us--mother, father, brother, and myself--only my father was right-handed.
Although my politics have shifted my handedness has not. I was brought up in a left-handed culture, one in which the minority was right. Not only that, but several of my best friends growing up were also left-handed. So I somehow got the idea that left was best, and that it correlated with all sorts of good things such as creativity and intelligence.
And in fact, left-handedness does appear to correlate at least somewhat with those things, as well as mental slowness and certain types of brain damage. It appears the left-handed population is more likely to harbor outliers of both types--I'll leave it to my readers to determine which category I might fall into.
I've never felt left-handedness itself to be a handicap, however. Little things like having to learn to use a scissors with my right hand were a bit difficult at the outset, but now I wield one as well as anyone.
My mother, raised in the early part of the century, had a far more arduous time of it. Back then it was common practice to switch lefties, and she was forced to write and eat with her right hand. Perhaps for that reason, she's had a problem all her life in distinguishing right from left (not in the political sense, however); her spatial differentiation is somewhat poorly developed. It used to amuse me when I was little (children are so cruel!) to watch her taking a surrepticious glance at her wedding ring when asked for directions, in order to cue herself as to which was left and which was right.
I have a theory--unsubstantiated--that there's a higher-than-average number of lefties in the blogger population. I'd love to do a survey. In fact, I'd like to propose that Pajamas Media, often accused of being too heavily skewed to the right, try to redress that imbalance by trumpeting how many of its bloggers are actually lefties.
The following theory, discussed in Wiki's article on lefthandedness, conforms to my own experience, and could help explain any preponderance of lefties that might be found among bloggers, at Pajamas or otherwise:
Left-handed persons are thought to process information using a "visual simultaneous" method in which several threads can be processed simultaneously. Another way to view this is such: Suppose there were a thousand pieces of popcorn and one of them was colored pink. The right-handed person — using the linear sequential processing style — would look at the popcorn one at a time until they encountered the pink one. The left-handed person would spread out the pieces of popcorn and visually look at all of them to find the one that was pink. A side effect of these differing styles of processing is that right handed persons need to complete one task before they can start the next. Left-handed people, by contrast, are capable and comfortable switching between tasks. This makes them appear (to the right-handed majority) as if they do not finish anything. Alternately, left-handed people have an excellent ability to multi-task. Perhaps the anecdotal evidence that suggests they are more creative stems from this ability to multi-task.
This is exactly the way I seem to work.
And Wikipedia has thoughtfully compiled this list of famous lefties. Take a look. I'm not sure how valid it is, but it's fun.
The list of sports figures is exceedingly lengthy, as would be expected. The advantages of left-handedness in most sports is well-known. Musicians, likewise, seem to be legion.
But to me the most fascinating are the politicians and world figures. Sure, you'd expect Castro and Hugo Chavez to be lefties. But both Margaret Thatcher and Ronald Reagan (switched, like my mother was, and like his own politics were--he started out to the left and ended up on the right)? And how about the three Presidential candidates in 1992--Clinton, Bush I, and Perot, lefties all. What were the odds?
New Secretary-General Ban: I like the reform rhetoric, at least (and then there's the French...)
If you listened to my most recent podcast, you've probably noted that I'm neither a Kofi Annan fan nor a UN fan. Whether I'll be a Secretary-General Ban fan (couldn't resist the rhyme) remains to be seen, but at least in his initial UN address he paid rhetorical lip service to the fact that corruption is rampant there and reform is sorely needed. We'll see whether there's any way for that to actually happen.
But Ban apparently has flunked his first French test, which was--a French test. Yes, you heard me right; apparently France requires all Secretaries-General to speak French. Although Ban has been burning the midnight oil and brushing up his skills in honor of the big day. he flubbed some questions at a recent French news conference.
Chirac might hold it against him. But I promise I won't.
But Ban apparently has flunked his first French test, which was--a French test. Yes, you heard me right; apparently France requires all Secretaries-General to speak French. Although Ban has been burning the midnight oil and brushing up his skills in honor of the big day. he flubbed some questions at a recent French news conference.
Chirac might hold it against him. But I promise I won't.
Thursday, December 14, 2006
Sherman and total war
I've been reading a book by Robert Kagan entitled Dangerous Nation, about the history of America's international relations. Kagan's thesis is that, from the start, the US was more involved and interventionist, and less isolationist, than conventional wisdom would indicate.
But that's not the portion of the book I'm writing about today. I've been reading the part about the Civil War. In the earliest days of that conflict, people thought it would be possible to wage the war in a relatively "civilized" and circumscribed manner. Instead, it was transformed into one of the bloodiest and most "total" of modern wars fought up till that time.
McClellan, Lincoln's first Union commander, preferred to wage a "gentleman's war." Ulysses S. Grant later described McClellan as one who "did not believe in this war...[letting his] ambivalent attitude toward the conflict influence [his] military performance." Thus do perceptions of a war's justness and necessity color the decisions made in the course of it, even by commanders.
McClellan, who was relieved of his military duties in March of 1862, famously ran for President against Lincoln on an antiwar platform in 1864. He lost, partly due to the impressive battle victories of one of his successors, Sherman, who was his very antithesis.
Kagan writes about the ever-controversial General Sherman [emphasis mine]:
The northern generals who prosecuted the war most effectively , and most ruthlessly, had more understanding of its ideological purposes..."We are not only fighting hostile armies," William Tecumseh Sherman declared, "but a hostile people, and must make old and young, rich and poor, feel the hard hand of war"....Therefore the North must "make the war so terrible...[and] make them so sick of war that generations would pass away before they would again appeal to it "...The Union's conduct of the Civil War would remain, for American commanders in both world wars of the twentieth century, the very model of a great war...a war of 'power unrestrained' unleashed for 'complete conquest.'
Sherman famously said "War is hell," a stark statement that encapsulates the horror of war. He's been accused of committing war crimes during the Civil War, but the evidence is that his campaign against the civilians of the South was mainly limited to destroying property, although it certainly caused a great deal of suffering--as intended.
Sherman also had a way with words. He's the author of many famous quotes about war which show a fascinating combination of the compassionate and the implacable. Sherman felt the two were closely linked in war--in order to ultimately be compassionate, one had to be ruthless, because half-measures kept the population in an undefeated state, ready to wage war again:
Every attempt to make war easy and safe will result in humiliation and defeat.
War is cruelty. There is no use trying to reform it. The crueler it is, the sooner it will be over.
The scenes on this field would cure anyone of war.
War as a remedy for war--it seems paradoxical. And yet, it worked for Sherman. And it seems that the dreadful wars of the twentieth century--World Wars I and II--bore out the principle that if a war is bad enough that a people actually feels defeated (not just humiliated or tricked, but defeated and war weary), they are unlikely to start another.
The First World War, bloody and vicious though it was, was not really a total war in the sense Sherman meant, although it came close. Fought mainly by armies (although those armies were decimated; an entire generation of Europeans lost its "best and brightest" men) it was stalemated for an exceptionally long time, and ended through an armistice--and then a treaty, Versailles--that was so unsatisfactory in resolving it that World War II was not long in coming.
The reasons the Germans were able to come back so quickly to start another war, despite their defeat in WWI, are complex. But one of them was probably the fact that although they felt humiliated by the terms of the Treaty, they somehow managed to feel that they had not really been conquered. In fact, in his rise to power, Hitler played on that perception: German defeat was not a "real" defeat, but the result of a betrayal by domestic forces of a varied nature (including, of course, the Jews)--the "stab in the back" theory.
World War II was, by all definitions, a total war. It involved civilian populations far more heavily; in WWI, most of the civilian deaths had been from influenza and famine, but World War II featured heavy civilian bombardment as a common tactic of the war. In fact, it seems that the experience of the total war of WWII decisively ended even the idea of warfare for Western Europe. It made its inhabitants, harking back to Sherman's words about the South, "so sick of war that generations would pass away before they would again appeal to it."
Revulsion for what they suffered during World Wars I and II--compared to the relative lack of suffering on American soil--is part of what has led to European pacifism and belief in the talking cure, as well as their contempt for what they see as America's tendency to resort far too easily to war. Europe feels itself to have been "cured" of war. The only problem, of course, is that the cure hasn't spread to the world of Islamic totalitarianism. Au contraire.
The first Gulf War was very different than the American Civil War, World War I, or World War II. The Gulf War was waged in a comparatively "easy and safe"--and limited--manner. However, contradicting Sherman's statement that such wars end in defeat, it was won by the US and its allies.
On reflection, though, Sherman appears to have been correct, after all. The Gulf War was "won," but the win was so limited that it led almost inevitably to the present Iraq War. Saddam's defiance at the end of the Gulf War; his massacre of those who, counting on our help, rose up against him; and his flouting of sanctions and inspections; clearly indicated that neither he nor the Iraqi people (except for his victims) had felt the sting of true defeat.
The present Iraq War illustrates the same dilemma of the "easy and safe" war leading to defeat--or, in this case, the perception of defeat, one that seems to have overwhelmed much of our electorate and our MSM.
"Easy and safe" (relatively speaking, of course; no war is either) is a good description of the initial military campaign of the Iraq War. The degree to which that first stage was "easy and safe" was the degree to which the forces now wreaking havoc there felt undefeated. At the time, it was "easy" for them to pretend to roll over during the initial war, which lasted only a few weeks, and then to regroup for the asymmetrical war they've been fighting ever since (a war which, like all modern wars, appeals to our own media--which certainly doesn't seem to need a total war to feel defeated).
I am most decidedly not advocating using the civilian bombardment techniques of World War II in Iraq. But I am suggesting that we acknowledge that we need to be willing to do what is necessary to win, and to make the actual enemy feel conquered (a la, take out al Sadr and his minions, for starters), and not to just go for "easy and safe." If we do the latter, we are doing no one a favor--including most of the Iraqi people.
[General Sherman on the topic of the MSM:
I hate newspapermen. They come into camp and pick up their camp rumors and print them as facts. I regard them as spies, which, in truth, they are.
If I had my choice I would kill every reporter in the world, but I am sure we would be getting reports from Hell before breakfast.]
But that's not the portion of the book I'm writing about today. I've been reading the part about the Civil War. In the earliest days of that conflict, people thought it would be possible to wage the war in a relatively "civilized" and circumscribed manner. Instead, it was transformed into one of the bloodiest and most "total" of modern wars fought up till that time.
McClellan, Lincoln's first Union commander, preferred to wage a "gentleman's war." Ulysses S. Grant later described McClellan as one who "did not believe in this war...[letting his] ambivalent attitude toward the conflict influence [his] military performance." Thus do perceptions of a war's justness and necessity color the decisions made in the course of it, even by commanders.
McClellan, who was relieved of his military duties in March of 1862, famously ran for President against Lincoln on an antiwar platform in 1864. He lost, partly due to the impressive battle victories of one of his successors, Sherman, who was his very antithesis.
Kagan writes about the ever-controversial General Sherman [emphasis mine]:
The northern generals who prosecuted the war most effectively , and most ruthlessly, had more understanding of its ideological purposes..."We are not only fighting hostile armies," William Tecumseh Sherman declared, "but a hostile people, and must make old and young, rich and poor, feel the hard hand of war"....Therefore the North must "make the war so terrible...[and] make them so sick of war that generations would pass away before they would again appeal to it "...The Union's conduct of the Civil War would remain, for American commanders in both world wars of the twentieth century, the very model of a great war...a war of 'power unrestrained' unleashed for 'complete conquest.'
Sherman famously said "War is hell," a stark statement that encapsulates the horror of war. He's been accused of committing war crimes during the Civil War, but the evidence is that his campaign against the civilians of the South was mainly limited to destroying property, although it certainly caused a great deal of suffering--as intended.
Sherman also had a way with words. He's the author of many famous quotes about war which show a fascinating combination of the compassionate and the implacable. Sherman felt the two were closely linked in war--in order to ultimately be compassionate, one had to be ruthless, because half-measures kept the population in an undefeated state, ready to wage war again:
Every attempt to make war easy and safe will result in humiliation and defeat.
War is cruelty. There is no use trying to reform it. The crueler it is, the sooner it will be over.
The scenes on this field would cure anyone of war.
War as a remedy for war--it seems paradoxical. And yet, it worked for Sherman. And it seems that the dreadful wars of the twentieth century--World Wars I and II--bore out the principle that if a war is bad enough that a people actually feels defeated (not just humiliated or tricked, but defeated and war weary), they are unlikely to start another.
The First World War, bloody and vicious though it was, was not really a total war in the sense Sherman meant, although it came close. Fought mainly by armies (although those armies were decimated; an entire generation of Europeans lost its "best and brightest" men) it was stalemated for an exceptionally long time, and ended through an armistice--and then a treaty, Versailles--that was so unsatisfactory in resolving it that World War II was not long in coming.
The reasons the Germans were able to come back so quickly to start another war, despite their defeat in WWI, are complex. But one of them was probably the fact that although they felt humiliated by the terms of the Treaty, they somehow managed to feel that they had not really been conquered. In fact, in his rise to power, Hitler played on that perception: German defeat was not a "real" defeat, but the result of a betrayal by domestic forces of a varied nature (including, of course, the Jews)--the "stab in the back" theory.
World War II was, by all definitions, a total war. It involved civilian populations far more heavily; in WWI, most of the civilian deaths had been from influenza and famine, but World War II featured heavy civilian bombardment as a common tactic of the war. In fact, it seems that the experience of the total war of WWII decisively ended even the idea of warfare for Western Europe. It made its inhabitants, harking back to Sherman's words about the South, "so sick of war that generations would pass away before they would again appeal to it."
Revulsion for what they suffered during World Wars I and II--compared to the relative lack of suffering on American soil--is part of what has led to European pacifism and belief in the talking cure, as well as their contempt for what they see as America's tendency to resort far too easily to war. Europe feels itself to have been "cured" of war. The only problem, of course, is that the cure hasn't spread to the world of Islamic totalitarianism. Au contraire.
The first Gulf War was very different than the American Civil War, World War I, or World War II. The Gulf War was waged in a comparatively "easy and safe"--and limited--manner. However, contradicting Sherman's statement that such wars end in defeat, it was won by the US and its allies.
On reflection, though, Sherman appears to have been correct, after all. The Gulf War was "won," but the win was so limited that it led almost inevitably to the present Iraq War. Saddam's defiance at the end of the Gulf War; his massacre of those who, counting on our help, rose up against him; and his flouting of sanctions and inspections; clearly indicated that neither he nor the Iraqi people (except for his victims) had felt the sting of true defeat.
The present Iraq War illustrates the same dilemma of the "easy and safe" war leading to defeat--or, in this case, the perception of defeat, one that seems to have overwhelmed much of our electorate and our MSM.
"Easy and safe" (relatively speaking, of course; no war is either) is a good description of the initial military campaign of the Iraq War. The degree to which that first stage was "easy and safe" was the degree to which the forces now wreaking havoc there felt undefeated. At the time, it was "easy" for them to pretend to roll over during the initial war, which lasted only a few weeks, and then to regroup for the asymmetrical war they've been fighting ever since (a war which, like all modern wars, appeals to our own media--which certainly doesn't seem to need a total war to feel defeated).
I am most decidedly not advocating using the civilian bombardment techniques of World War II in Iraq. But I am suggesting that we acknowledge that we need to be willing to do what is necessary to win, and to make the actual enemy feel conquered (a la, take out al Sadr and his minions, for starters), and not to just go for "easy and safe." If we do the latter, we are doing no one a favor--including most of the Iraqi people.
[General Sherman on the topic of the MSM:
I hate newspapermen. They come into camp and pick up their camp rumors and print them as facts. I regard them as spies, which, in truth, they are.
If I had my choice I would kill every reporter in the world, but I am sure we would be getting reports from Hell before breakfast.]
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
Carter's "imprisonment wall"
Jimmy Carter, peacemaker extraordinaire, has called the wall Israel has built an "imprisonment wall."
A strange notion of imprisonment, indeed. How can a wall designed to keep murderers out of a single small country (Israel), and yet allowing them freedom of movement elsewhere, be considered a prison?
I wonder if Jimmy locks his doors. Because if he does, isn't he imprisoning someone? Locking out those who might want to steal from him, or murder him? Isn't that the main reason we all lock our doors (although I have to say, in New England, I know quite a few people who don't)?
Did Carter even notice the number of suicide bombers blowing Israelis to bits before the wall was erected, and has he compared it to the number of such bombings since?
But no. Carter is almost as demented as Gandhi was when he counseled the Jews to allow Hitler to murder them so that they might claim the moral high ground and set an example of peace/love. Ah, these wonderful peace advocates, always wanting the Jews to sacrifice themselves for the cause! Jimmy, likewise, would like Jews to die in order to give Palestinians freedom of movement within Israel--the freedom to come there and slaughter Jews with impunity.
I haven't read Carter's book, but according to this review in the Washington Post, he managed to write the entire thing--which focuses on the topic of the wall--without once conceding that it was built to prevent the murder of Jews.
Astounding. But not surprising.
[NOTE: on the topic of the inflammatory title of Carter's book, Palestine: Peace Not Apartheid, read Michael Kinsley in Slate.]
A strange notion of imprisonment, indeed. How can a wall designed to keep murderers out of a single small country (Israel), and yet allowing them freedom of movement elsewhere, be considered a prison?
I wonder if Jimmy locks his doors. Because if he does, isn't he imprisoning someone? Locking out those who might want to steal from him, or murder him? Isn't that the main reason we all lock our doors (although I have to say, in New England, I know quite a few people who don't)?
Did Carter even notice the number of suicide bombers blowing Israelis to bits before the wall was erected, and has he compared it to the number of such bombings since?
But no. Carter is almost as demented as Gandhi was when he counseled the Jews to allow Hitler to murder them so that they might claim the moral high ground and set an example of peace/love. Ah, these wonderful peace advocates, always wanting the Jews to sacrifice themselves for the cause! Jimmy, likewise, would like Jews to die in order to give Palestinians freedom of movement within Israel--the freedom to come there and slaughter Jews with impunity.
I haven't read Carter's book, but according to this review in the Washington Post, he managed to write the entire thing--which focuses on the topic of the wall--without once conceding that it was built to prevent the murder of Jews.
Astounding. But not surprising.
[NOTE: on the topic of the inflammatory title of Carter's book, Palestine: Peace Not Apartheid, read Michael Kinsley in Slate.]
New podcast: Iran + Annan
The Sanity Squad is back opining at Pajamas Media. The topics? Iran's "scientific" [sic] Holocaust Denial Conference, and the legacy of Kofi Annan, whose term as UN Secretary-General is up at the end of the month.
So go to PJ and listen to me, Dr. Sanity, Shrinkwrapped, and Siggy. Those with sharp ears will notice the lingering effects of my rather nasty cold; my voice sounds pretty nasal. I stoically kept myself from coughing up a storm during the podcast: the show must go on!
So go to PJ and listen to me, Dr. Sanity, Shrinkwrapped, and Siggy. Those with sharp ears will notice the lingering effects of my rather nasty cold; my voice sounds pretty nasal. I stoically kept myself from coughing up a storm during the podcast: the show must go on!
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
The definition of "success" in war: Part II (colonialism and occupation)
[Part I can be found here.]
Shelby Steele, a supporter of the war in Iraq, discusses the semantic and conceptual problem we face when we have no clear definition of victory:
Without a description of victory, a war has no goal.
Historically victory in foreign war has always meant hegemony: You win, you take over. We not only occupied Germany and Japan militarily after World War II, we also--and without a whit of self doubt--imposed our democratic way of life on them. We took our victory as a moral mandate as well as a military achievement, and felt commanded to morally transform these defeated societies by the terms of our democracy. In this effort we brooked no resistance whatsoever and we achieved great success.
But today, as Nancy Pelosi recently put it, "You can define victory any way you want." And war, she said, was only "a situation to be resolved." If this sort of glibness makes the current war seem a directionless postmodern adventure, it is only because those who call us to war have themselves left the definition of victory wide open.
Steele thinks--and I agree--that it's not just the Iraq War that's lacked a definition of victory. As Richard Fernandez writes at his blog Belmont Club, we seem to have a problem with the general concept of a war--except for limited, targeted "operations" such as the first Gulf War.
Any proposed solution to the current conflict with Islamic totalitarianism that fails to take into account its worldwide scope, relentless nature, and willingness to fight very dirty, is going to be a half-baked effort. In order to mount a "successful" campaign with an effective plan, we not only need creativity and intelligence, we need commitment, focus, and an understanding that this will be a long hard fight.
In the beginning of the so-called "War on Terror," Bush's rhetoric did indicate a long, hard fight. But I don't think he prepared the American people for what the Iraq War would entail. Whether this was because he was afraid they wouldn't go along if he described it, or whether he himself (and his advisors) were unaware of how very long and difficult it would be, I don't know. Probably it was some combination of the two; not a good thing.
But at this point we know it will be very long and very hard. I'm pretty sure Bush and all his advisors know that by now, as well. An asymmetrical war against those who will use terror not only with relative impunity but with joy, who believe themselves divinely inspired, and who number in the millions and are spread throughout the world, and who have an interest in foiling us in Iraq--by definition, that's going to be a long hard slog.
But besides the inherent difficulties in defining "success" against a shadowy, non-state entity, Steele thinks Americans have other difficulties in understanding--or, perhaps, accepting would be a better word--what victory in Iraq would look like. Steele thinks the problem stems from our modern-day ambivalence over our superpower status, which makes us want (in this postmodern, anticolonial world) to deny the responsibilities that go with it--duties that hark back to that dread word, imperialism.
Steele thinks that reluctance to accept responsibility is the reason we lack the will to impose the sort of occupation I discussed here. At the end of WWII, America had virtually no such guilt about the occupation of Japan and Germany. This ambivalence/guilt is mainly a post-WWII (and, specifically, post-60s and post-Vietnam) phenomenon.
Steele doesn't mention any psychological reasons for this rejection of responsibility (although, for the boomer generation, I would posit them), but rather, philosophical ones:
Today our antiwar movement is essentially an argument with this fate, a rejection of superpower responsibility.
And this fear of responsibility is what makes us ambivalent toward the idea of victory. Because victory is hegemonic, it mimics colonialism. A complete American victory in Iraq would put that nation--at least for a time--entirely under American power and sovereignty. We would in fact "own" the society as a colony.
He is correct; an occupation does mimic colonialism. But, although related, it isn't quite the same. We did not "own" post-WWII Japan or West Germany as traditional colonies, for example, although we did exercise a great deal of control over them and took responsibility for them.
Traditionally, colonies existed not only as spoils of war, nor as objects of occupation for reforming their governments into functioning democracies protective of human rights and therefore unlikely to aggressively threaten us again (the motives for our occupations of Japan and Germany), nor even as ways to expand a certain culture and way of life (although they were often that, too). Colonies were also ordinarily taken over in order to exploit their natural resources to the good of the imperialist power: in other words, to plunder.
This accusation of motivations of plunder--of an "unjust" motive for the Iraq War--has been at the heart of the belief system (or at least the rhetoric, sincere or not) of the antiwar movement. It's at the base of the "no blood for oil" cries, for example.
To those making the charges, there's no real need to prove we actually are exploiting or appropriating the oil; the accusation stands as symbolic of what colonial powers always do. If the accuser accepts that the US is an imperialist colonialist power, then ipso facto our motivation must be this sort of economic exploitation, which would be both morally wrong and a throwback to the age of colonialism and subjugation of the third world for our (historically, more often Europe's) own purposes.
The causes of the Iraq War have been disputed, and for many they are a confusing and troubling aspect of the war itself. In contrast to Afghanistan, which was known to harbor al Qaeda and therefore was directly implicated in the 9/11 attack on the US, the stated rationales for going to war with Iraq were legalistic, defensive, and moral.
The legalistic and defensive reasons for the war were Iraq's multiple violations of the terms that ended the Gulf War, including Saddam's spotty "cooperation" with weapons inspections. And these reasons were, in turn, part a defense of--of all things--the power of the UN to put teeth into its resolutions.
As such, the current war was actually a continuation of the 1991 Gulf War after a more than decades-long pause. The UN resolutions that were violated included ones concerning WMDs, part of the armistice for that Gulf War, as well. Saddam's noncompliance had been winked at many times, but in light of 9/11 it was considered far more important than before to make sure Saddam did not have nuclear weapons that he could put into the hands of terrorists or use on his neighbors. This was the directly self-defensive part of the rationale for the war (and, by the way, Bush's speech on the subject said that we did not have to wait till this threat was "imminent" in order to act).
Then, of course, there were the stated humanitarian goals of the war. We wanted to liberate the people of Iraq from an oppressor, Saddam. This was not the only reason to go to war, of course, but it was definitely part of it. And even this part got us into trouble--paradoxically, because it's the most morally "pure" part of our motivation. One way it got us into trouble was that--to those who think the US is an evil imperialist power--it was considered just a screen for the "real," selfish motivation for the war: colonialism. Another reason is that with the toppling of Saddam went the responsibility for establishing a functioning government in a country that had been ruled by tyranny and terror for many decades. It was predictable that there would be a jockeying for power among factions, and that it wouldn't be pretty, and that the occupation would require a firm hand and would take a long time, although I don't recall this ever being explicitly stated prior to the war. I believe it should have been emphasized.
To have been emphasized, of course, it would have to have been acknowledged and known. I'm not sure that was the case; if it was not, that would have been a huge failing on the part of the planners of this war.
Transforming Iraq into a nonchaotic state has proven very difficult. But in my opinion, one of the reasons it's been so very hard is that we were ambivalent in our dedication to that goal from the start. We tried to implement it with half-measures that smacked of PC correctness--the best example being the hands-off policy towards al Sadr when his support was still relatively small.
Without an acceptance of the fact that we are an occupation force in Iraq, and all that entails, there's no way the country can be prevented from sliding into chaos, or from falling under the domination of neighbors who are up to no good. That knowledge, I believe, is what's behind the current calls to increase the number of our forces there, if only temporarily. Because, make no mistake about it: if we're reluctant to "occupy" because of the resemblance of occupation to colonialism, our enemies entertain no such moral quandaries.
As with the USSR during the Cold War, Iran would like expand its power and influence in the region. But Iran is only one of the faces of our enemy. There are others (al Qaeda, or Syria, for example). They resemble each other in ignoring the niceties we pay so much attention to. For the most part, they couldn't care less about human rights--or human life, for that matter. And of course, being third-world countries, they are somehow exempt from those nefarious charges of colonialism and imperialism--even though they nakedly and boldly lust for those things (and in some cases, already practice them) themselves.
So, what would victory in the "War on Terror" (better phrase: the war against Islamic totalitarianism) look like? Would we at least know it if we saw it? Would it be a decrease in the number of terrorist attacks, or just in our perception of their likelihood? That would certainly be part of such a victory.
Would it have to include a relatively well-functioning and prosperous Middle East? Try as I might, it's hard to see how the first goal (decrease in the risk of terrorist attacks on us) could be effected without the second, because the hatred and jihadism in that part of the world is fueled by its dysfunctional governments and societies, which are legion. In the modern world, we cannot effectively wall ourselves off from this threat; we must do something about its wellsprings.
That was the real basis for the "moral" argument for starting the Iraq War. Those who were against that war and who argued that, since there were so many other tyrants in the world, why not depose them as well if we were going to go after Saddam, were trying to make the point that there was some self-interest behind our altruistic words about tyrants. And indeed, there was.
But that doesn't invalidate them. Sometimes things are both morally right and in our best interests. And both things are true of reforming the Middle East.
But what a task! How much of this could--or should--be under our control? And how best to go about it (that's what the arguments regarding Iran are all about: talks, vs. clandestine operations to support anti-government groups, vs. military action, limited or otherwise)?
Even if reform of the area is something we could effect, at least theoretically, how much are we willing to spend in money, time, and blood, to achieve it? We've never answered these questions, but the answers depend in good part on how high we evaluate the risk of doing nothing.
To me, the choice is obvious. In fact, it's not even a choice; we chose neither this war nor this enemy. They chose us, and they are not about to change their minds and unchoose us. We cannot ignore the situation, or leave and pretend it will go away. It will not.
So we need a government that is not afraid to use the "s" word--success--and is willing to define it, and able to describe to the American people just what it will take to achieve it.
Shelby Steele, a supporter of the war in Iraq, discusses the semantic and conceptual problem we face when we have no clear definition of victory:
Without a description of victory, a war has no goal.
Historically victory in foreign war has always meant hegemony: You win, you take over. We not only occupied Germany and Japan militarily after World War II, we also--and without a whit of self doubt--imposed our democratic way of life on them. We took our victory as a moral mandate as well as a military achievement, and felt commanded to morally transform these defeated societies by the terms of our democracy. In this effort we brooked no resistance whatsoever and we achieved great success.
But today, as Nancy Pelosi recently put it, "You can define victory any way you want." And war, she said, was only "a situation to be resolved." If this sort of glibness makes the current war seem a directionless postmodern adventure, it is only because those who call us to war have themselves left the definition of victory wide open.
Steele thinks--and I agree--that it's not just the Iraq War that's lacked a definition of victory. As Richard Fernandez writes at his blog Belmont Club, we seem to have a problem with the general concept of a war--except for limited, targeted "operations" such as the first Gulf War.
Any proposed solution to the current conflict with Islamic totalitarianism that fails to take into account its worldwide scope, relentless nature, and willingness to fight very dirty, is going to be a half-baked effort. In order to mount a "successful" campaign with an effective plan, we not only need creativity and intelligence, we need commitment, focus, and an understanding that this will be a long hard fight.
In the beginning of the so-called "War on Terror," Bush's rhetoric did indicate a long, hard fight. But I don't think he prepared the American people for what the Iraq War would entail. Whether this was because he was afraid they wouldn't go along if he described it, or whether he himself (and his advisors) were unaware of how very long and difficult it would be, I don't know. Probably it was some combination of the two; not a good thing.
But at this point we know it will be very long and very hard. I'm pretty sure Bush and all his advisors know that by now, as well. An asymmetrical war against those who will use terror not only with relative impunity but with joy, who believe themselves divinely inspired, and who number in the millions and are spread throughout the world, and who have an interest in foiling us in Iraq--by definition, that's going to be a long hard slog.
But besides the inherent difficulties in defining "success" against a shadowy, non-state entity, Steele thinks Americans have other difficulties in understanding--or, perhaps, accepting would be a better word--what victory in Iraq would look like. Steele thinks the problem stems from our modern-day ambivalence over our superpower status, which makes us want (in this postmodern, anticolonial world) to deny the responsibilities that go with it--duties that hark back to that dread word, imperialism.
Steele thinks that reluctance to accept responsibility is the reason we lack the will to impose the sort of occupation I discussed here. At the end of WWII, America had virtually no such guilt about the occupation of Japan and Germany. This ambivalence/guilt is mainly a post-WWII (and, specifically, post-60s and post-Vietnam) phenomenon.
Steele doesn't mention any psychological reasons for this rejection of responsibility (although, for the boomer generation, I would posit them), but rather, philosophical ones:
Today our antiwar movement is essentially an argument with this fate, a rejection of superpower responsibility.
And this fear of responsibility is what makes us ambivalent toward the idea of victory. Because victory is hegemonic, it mimics colonialism. A complete American victory in Iraq would put that nation--at least for a time--entirely under American power and sovereignty. We would in fact "own" the society as a colony.
He is correct; an occupation does mimic colonialism. But, although related, it isn't quite the same. We did not "own" post-WWII Japan or West Germany as traditional colonies, for example, although we did exercise a great deal of control over them and took responsibility for them.
Traditionally, colonies existed not only as spoils of war, nor as objects of occupation for reforming their governments into functioning democracies protective of human rights and therefore unlikely to aggressively threaten us again (the motives for our occupations of Japan and Germany), nor even as ways to expand a certain culture and way of life (although they were often that, too). Colonies were also ordinarily taken over in order to exploit their natural resources to the good of the imperialist power: in other words, to plunder.
This accusation of motivations of plunder--of an "unjust" motive for the Iraq War--has been at the heart of the belief system (or at least the rhetoric, sincere or not) of the antiwar movement. It's at the base of the "no blood for oil" cries, for example.
To those making the charges, there's no real need to prove we actually are exploiting or appropriating the oil; the accusation stands as symbolic of what colonial powers always do. If the accuser accepts that the US is an imperialist colonialist power, then ipso facto our motivation must be this sort of economic exploitation, which would be both morally wrong and a throwback to the age of colonialism and subjugation of the third world for our (historically, more often Europe's) own purposes.
The causes of the Iraq War have been disputed, and for many they are a confusing and troubling aspect of the war itself. In contrast to Afghanistan, which was known to harbor al Qaeda and therefore was directly implicated in the 9/11 attack on the US, the stated rationales for going to war with Iraq were legalistic, defensive, and moral.
The legalistic and defensive reasons for the war were Iraq's multiple violations of the terms that ended the Gulf War, including Saddam's spotty "cooperation" with weapons inspections. And these reasons were, in turn, part a defense of--of all things--the power of the UN to put teeth into its resolutions.
As such, the current war was actually a continuation of the 1991 Gulf War after a more than decades-long pause. The UN resolutions that were violated included ones concerning WMDs, part of the armistice for that Gulf War, as well. Saddam's noncompliance had been winked at many times, but in light of 9/11 it was considered far more important than before to make sure Saddam did not have nuclear weapons that he could put into the hands of terrorists or use on his neighbors. This was the directly self-defensive part of the rationale for the war (and, by the way, Bush's speech on the subject said that we did not have to wait till this threat was "imminent" in order to act).
Then, of course, there were the stated humanitarian goals of the war. We wanted to liberate the people of Iraq from an oppressor, Saddam. This was not the only reason to go to war, of course, but it was definitely part of it. And even this part got us into trouble--paradoxically, because it's the most morally "pure" part of our motivation. One way it got us into trouble was that--to those who think the US is an evil imperialist power--it was considered just a screen for the "real," selfish motivation for the war: colonialism. Another reason is that with the toppling of Saddam went the responsibility for establishing a functioning government in a country that had been ruled by tyranny and terror for many decades. It was predictable that there would be a jockeying for power among factions, and that it wouldn't be pretty, and that the occupation would require a firm hand and would take a long time, although I don't recall this ever being explicitly stated prior to the war. I believe it should have been emphasized.
To have been emphasized, of course, it would have to have been acknowledged and known. I'm not sure that was the case; if it was not, that would have been a huge failing on the part of the planners of this war.
Transforming Iraq into a nonchaotic state has proven very difficult. But in my opinion, one of the reasons it's been so very hard is that we were ambivalent in our dedication to that goal from the start. We tried to implement it with half-measures that smacked of PC correctness--the best example being the hands-off policy towards al Sadr when his support was still relatively small.
Without an acceptance of the fact that we are an occupation force in Iraq, and all that entails, there's no way the country can be prevented from sliding into chaos, or from falling under the domination of neighbors who are up to no good. That knowledge, I believe, is what's behind the current calls to increase the number of our forces there, if only temporarily. Because, make no mistake about it: if we're reluctant to "occupy" because of the resemblance of occupation to colonialism, our enemies entertain no such moral quandaries.
As with the USSR during the Cold War, Iran would like expand its power and influence in the region. But Iran is only one of the faces of our enemy. There are others (al Qaeda, or Syria, for example). They resemble each other in ignoring the niceties we pay so much attention to. For the most part, they couldn't care less about human rights--or human life, for that matter. And of course, being third-world countries, they are somehow exempt from those nefarious charges of colonialism and imperialism--even though they nakedly and boldly lust for those things (and in some cases, already practice them) themselves.
So, what would victory in the "War on Terror" (better phrase: the war against Islamic totalitarianism) look like? Would we at least know it if we saw it? Would it be a decrease in the number of terrorist attacks, or just in our perception of their likelihood? That would certainly be part of such a victory.
Would it have to include a relatively well-functioning and prosperous Middle East? Try as I might, it's hard to see how the first goal (decrease in the risk of terrorist attacks on us) could be effected without the second, because the hatred and jihadism in that part of the world is fueled by its dysfunctional governments and societies, which are legion. In the modern world, we cannot effectively wall ourselves off from this threat; we must do something about its wellsprings.
That was the real basis for the "moral" argument for starting the Iraq War. Those who were against that war and who argued that, since there were so many other tyrants in the world, why not depose them as well if we were going to go after Saddam, were trying to make the point that there was some self-interest behind our altruistic words about tyrants. And indeed, there was.
But that doesn't invalidate them. Sometimes things are both morally right and in our best interests. And both things are true of reforming the Middle East.
But what a task! How much of this could--or should--be under our control? And how best to go about it (that's what the arguments regarding Iran are all about: talks, vs. clandestine operations to support anti-government groups, vs. military action, limited or otherwise)?
Even if reform of the area is something we could effect, at least theoretically, how much are we willing to spend in money, time, and blood, to achieve it? We've never answered these questions, but the answers depend in good part on how high we evaluate the risk of doing nothing.
To me, the choice is obvious. In fact, it's not even a choice; we chose neither this war nor this enemy. They chose us, and they are not about to change their minds and unchoose us. We cannot ignore the situation, or leave and pretend it will go away. It will not.
So we need a government that is not afraid to use the "s" word--success--and is willing to define it, and able to describe to the American people just what it will take to achieve it.
Monday, December 11, 2006
The definition of "success" in war: Part I
The ISG report has branded our efforts in Iraq "grave," "deteriorating," and "not working."
The American people aren't too happy with the situation, either. Results of recent polls indicate:
Just 9 per cent expect the war to end in clear-cut victory, compared with 87 per cent who expect some sort of compromise settlement...
But what would "clear-cut victory" actually look like in the case of Iraq (or Iran, or Syria, or any number of other places, for that matter)? Do we know? To achieve "victory," is it necessary to have a country completely at peace, with guarantees of civil rights for all and a smoothly functioning democratic process?
Well, that would be victory, all right. But is anything short of that failure? Probably not. But, if not, where do we draw the line between the two? After all, a nation running as smoothly as that was always a highly unrealistic short-term goal for Iraq--and by "short-term" I mean anything less than a few decades, or even longer.
So, how should we define a realistic and relatively short-term (a couple of years) victory in Iraq? Although it's difficult to do so, it seems necessary in order to know whether we ever achieve it, or even come close to it.
Our early definition of victory in Iraq was simple, but very incomplete: deposing Saddam. That was done with relative ease, but had we left at that point the country would have devolved into chaos. Leaving prematurely is a big problem; in fact, the current Iraq War can be seen as an attempt to deal with the situation left by the very unfinished business of the first Gulf War, in which "success" was too narrowly defined.
Commenter Ymarsakar had this to say recently on the subject of success in this war versus previous, more traditional, ones:
The thing you have to remember about WWII...is that people could know whether victory or defeat was close by, by casualty lists and whether a battle was won or lost, territory gained or won. In a guerrila war as with Iraq, that doesn't seem very clear. I mean, the US won all the battles so far, and yet we have violence every day, but we control all the territory, but and but and but. The human mind is not wired for this kind of fight and flight, fight then flight then fight then flight then fight schism. Because it pulls you from one way to the other, and eventually you will shred.
One part of your mind says you are winning. No attacks, US soldiers winning battles, etc. Other side of your brain sees you are losing, loss of support, violence, more violence, American deaths, demoralizing stories, etc.
I've mentioned this before of course, but the agony of defeat in WWII or even the threat of it, actually galvanized morale and support. You don't have that now, because America itself is not being attacked and the world doesn't "look" like the terroists are gaining ground...
I think you know that the loss of the Pacific Fleet left the entire Western seaboard of America open to Japanese invasion. It was a palpable sense of dread and DEFEAT, the idea that you could lose. You NEED that for resolve. In Iraq, the idea that we will lose, is not there, but the idea that we "aren't winning" is there. So it creates friction.
One of President Bush's major communication failures was on the subject of what success would look like in this particular war. Some say it should have been limited to toppling Saddam, although that would have left the country in chaos. The traditional realpolitik solution would have been to have backed another strong man as replacement--a dictator, but "our" dictator--and hope for the best (the Shah of Iran was an example of this approach in the past).
Our venture in Iraq had a more lofty ultimate, long-term goal (although the amount of time and effort necessary to achieve that goal was poorly defined): to help the Iraqis towards a functioning democracy rather than a dictatorship, somewhat resembling the occupation of Japan and West Germany and the establishment of democracies there after WWII (and yes, the differences between Iraq and the those countries, as well as the perception of defeat by the populations involved, are profound) . Whether or not that goal could have been achieved with a more forceful and committed occupation in Iraq (see this for a discussion), or could still be achieved, there's no doubt that it has not been achieved at this point in time.
But Victor Davis Hanson points to the fact that the jihadis don't seem to think they've achieved success yet, either:
We forget that the jihadist websites are still worried about Iraq, both the losses suffered there, and the emergence of a democratic government. We think we are not winning, but so do they think they aren’t either.
Recently President Bush was careful to refer to the "pace of success" in Iraq as being too slow, rather than mentioning the "F" word, failure. He said:
You want frankness? I thought we would succeed quicker than we did. And I am disappointed by the pace of success.
Semantics, right? Not entirely. How something is framed does indeed affect our view of it.
There are many, of course, who would consider that comment of Bush's ludicrous: to them, it's obvious that our venture in Iraq is a failure already, and to speak of a slowed "pace of success" is merely Orwellian gobbledygook meant to keep us in a losing endeavor, spilling more blood and treasure just to protect Bush's pride.
There are others (and I am among them) who consider that failure (and premature withdrawal) in Iraq would not only be a tragedy for the Iraqi people and for the world, but would not even accomplish the goals its proponents think it will. This enemy and this fight cannot be avoided, and failure in Iraq (however it's defined) will only set up the next, and greater conflict.
The question of "will" in this war is one I've tackled before (here, for example). Part of will is to consider that failure is not an option, and to do whatever needs to be done to make sure it does not occur. But without defining either, we are at sea, especially in the sort of murky situation presented by asymmetrical wars.
In World War II the goals were so obvious there was no real need to define victory: unconditional surrender of the enemy, nothing less. In Vietnam things became more foggy, and part of the shock of the Pentagon Papers was that the goals the American people had assumed were those of our war effort there were revealed to have not been taken all that seriously by the Pentagon. Post-Vietnam, goals have not only been poorly articulated, but in the current conflict they are inherently difficult to define--this enemy will never formally surrender.
[Part II, planned for tomorrow, will be an attempt to explain why victory has been especially difficult to define and to pursue in this particular war.]
[ADDENDUM: Shrinkwrapped on a related theme.]
[ADDENDuM II: Here's another example of the use of semantics in war.]
The American people aren't too happy with the situation, either. Results of recent polls indicate:
Just 9 per cent expect the war to end in clear-cut victory, compared with 87 per cent who expect some sort of compromise settlement...
But what would "clear-cut victory" actually look like in the case of Iraq (or Iran, or Syria, or any number of other places, for that matter)? Do we know? To achieve "victory," is it necessary to have a country completely at peace, with guarantees of civil rights for all and a smoothly functioning democratic process?
Well, that would be victory, all right. But is anything short of that failure? Probably not. But, if not, where do we draw the line between the two? After all, a nation running as smoothly as that was always a highly unrealistic short-term goal for Iraq--and by "short-term" I mean anything less than a few decades, or even longer.
So, how should we define a realistic and relatively short-term (a couple of years) victory in Iraq? Although it's difficult to do so, it seems necessary in order to know whether we ever achieve it, or even come close to it.
Our early definition of victory in Iraq was simple, but very incomplete: deposing Saddam. That was done with relative ease, but had we left at that point the country would have devolved into chaos. Leaving prematurely is a big problem; in fact, the current Iraq War can be seen as an attempt to deal with the situation left by the very unfinished business of the first Gulf War, in which "success" was too narrowly defined.
Commenter Ymarsakar had this to say recently on the subject of success in this war versus previous, more traditional, ones:
The thing you have to remember about WWII...is that people could know whether victory or defeat was close by, by casualty lists and whether a battle was won or lost, territory gained or won. In a guerrila war as with Iraq, that doesn't seem very clear. I mean, the US won all the battles so far, and yet we have violence every day, but we control all the territory, but and but and but. The human mind is not wired for this kind of fight and flight, fight then flight then fight then flight then fight schism. Because it pulls you from one way to the other, and eventually you will shred.
One part of your mind says you are winning. No attacks, US soldiers winning battles, etc. Other side of your brain sees you are losing, loss of support, violence, more violence, American deaths, demoralizing stories, etc.
I've mentioned this before of course, but the agony of defeat in WWII or even the threat of it, actually galvanized morale and support. You don't have that now, because America itself is not being attacked and the world doesn't "look" like the terroists are gaining ground...
I think you know that the loss of the Pacific Fleet left the entire Western seaboard of America open to Japanese invasion. It was a palpable sense of dread and DEFEAT, the idea that you could lose. You NEED that for resolve. In Iraq, the idea that we will lose, is not there, but the idea that we "aren't winning" is there. So it creates friction.
One of President Bush's major communication failures was on the subject of what success would look like in this particular war. Some say it should have been limited to toppling Saddam, although that would have left the country in chaos. The traditional realpolitik solution would have been to have backed another strong man as replacement--a dictator, but "our" dictator--and hope for the best (the Shah of Iran was an example of this approach in the past).
Our venture in Iraq had a more lofty ultimate, long-term goal (although the amount of time and effort necessary to achieve that goal was poorly defined): to help the Iraqis towards a functioning democracy rather than a dictatorship, somewhat resembling the occupation of Japan and West Germany and the establishment of democracies there after WWII (and yes, the differences between Iraq and the those countries, as well as the perception of defeat by the populations involved, are profound) . Whether or not that goal could have been achieved with a more forceful and committed occupation in Iraq (see this for a discussion), or could still be achieved, there's no doubt that it has not been achieved at this point in time.
But Victor Davis Hanson points to the fact that the jihadis don't seem to think they've achieved success yet, either:
We forget that the jihadist websites are still worried about Iraq, both the losses suffered there, and the emergence of a democratic government. We think we are not winning, but so do they think they aren’t either.
Recently President Bush was careful to refer to the "pace of success" in Iraq as being too slow, rather than mentioning the "F" word, failure. He said:
You want frankness? I thought we would succeed quicker than we did. And I am disappointed by the pace of success.
Semantics, right? Not entirely. How something is framed does indeed affect our view of it.
There are many, of course, who would consider that comment of Bush's ludicrous: to them, it's obvious that our venture in Iraq is a failure already, and to speak of a slowed "pace of success" is merely Orwellian gobbledygook meant to keep us in a losing endeavor, spilling more blood and treasure just to protect Bush's pride.
There are others (and I am among them) who consider that failure (and premature withdrawal) in Iraq would not only be a tragedy for the Iraqi people and for the world, but would not even accomplish the goals its proponents think it will. This enemy and this fight cannot be avoided, and failure in Iraq (however it's defined) will only set up the next, and greater conflict.
The question of "will" in this war is one I've tackled before (here, for example). Part of will is to consider that failure is not an option, and to do whatever needs to be done to make sure it does not occur. But without defining either, we are at sea, especially in the sort of murky situation presented by asymmetrical wars.
In World War II the goals were so obvious there was no real need to define victory: unconditional surrender of the enemy, nothing less. In Vietnam things became more foggy, and part of the shock of the Pentagon Papers was that the goals the American people had assumed were those of our war effort there were revealed to have not been taken all that seriously by the Pentagon. Post-Vietnam, goals have not only been poorly articulated, but in the current conflict they are inherently difficult to define--this enemy will never formally surrender.
[Part II, planned for tomorrow, will be an attempt to explain why victory has been especially difficult to define and to pursue in this particular war.]
[ADDENDUM: Shrinkwrapped on a related theme.]
[ADDENDuM II: Here's another example of the use of semantics in war.]
Saturday, December 09, 2006
The ISG and the USIP: who are these people and why are they saying all these things?
In her latest vlog, the inimitable Pamela of Atlas Shrugs asks the following pertinent question about ISG head James Baker, "Who died and made him king?"
Well, I think I can offer a stab at an answer. Who died? The Republican Party in the 2006 election (I know, I know, they didn't die. But they did receive a blow). Who made Baker king? The MSM.
My guess is that had the Republicans won the 2006 elections, we wouldn't have heard much about the ISG recommendations, which have been hyped to the nth degree by the media only since those elections.
The ISG was appointed back in March. Here is its history. It was formed at the suggestion of Congressman Frank Wolf as a bipartisan panel to look at the situation in Iraq with fresh eyes. The panel was affiliated with an entity called the United States Institute of Peace:
The United States Institute of Peace is an independent, nonpartisan, national institution established and funded by Congress. Its mission is to help:
* Prevent and resolve violent international conflicts
* Promote post-conflict stability and democratic transformations
* Increase peacebuilding capacity, tools, and intellectual capital worldwide
In other words, from the start, the ISG was under the aegis of a group dedicated to finding diplomatic solutions rather than to make military suggestions (except, perhaps, in the area of using armed forces as peacekeepers). The USIP was a "facilitating organization" to the Group, meaning:
As facilitator, USIP maintains an in-house Iraq expert committee that supports the ISG principals in their work. USIP has assisted the group and its members by convening expert working groups, writing briefing papers, providing analysis and coordinating meetings of the ISG.
The two heads of the ISG, Baker and Hamilton, were chosen by:
mutual agreement among the Congressional organizers, USIP, and the other supporting organizations. After being named co-chairs, Baker and Hamilton selected the remaining group members in consultation with USIP and the other supporting organizations.
So it was Congress and the USIP who appointed the heads of the ISG, who then appointed everyone else, with the USIP heavily involved. And once you read the goals of the USIP, it becomes crystal clear why the rather deranged suggestion to talk to Iran and Syria, and to resolve the Palestinian/Israeli situation through revival of the DOA "peace process" there, are part and parcel of the ISG recommendations.
I'm sure the USIP is composed of a bunch of nice people dedicated to the pursuit of peace, a laudable cause. And I would imagine that somewhere, somehow, in the right circumstances, they do some fine work--perhaps, for example, in rebuilding places where the fighting parties are exhausted and wanting reconciliation (some of the nations of Africa, for example). Here are more of the USIP's activities:
* Providing on-the-ground operational support in zones of conflict, most recently in Afghanistan, the Balkans, Colombia, Indonesia, Iraq, the Palestinian Territories, Liberia, Nigeria, Philippines, Rwanda, and Sudan. Specific work performed by Institute staff and grantees includes:
o Building leadership capacity through training and workshops
o Facilitating dialogue among parties in conflict
o Identifying and disseminating best practices in conflict management
o Sponsoring leadership summits and strategic conferences
o Promoting the rule of law
o Developing educational and teacher training materials
o Helping build civil society institutions
o Sponsoring a wide range of countrywide working groups (e.g., Afghanistan, Haiti, Iraq, Korea, Sudan)
o Educating the public through informative events, documentary films, radio programs, and an array of other outreach activities
Despite the heavy hand of the USIP and their bias for the talking cure (and I'm not referring to psychotherapy), the ISG still might have been a more worthwhile and balanced endeavor had its members consisted of people with a great deal of expertise on the subject of Iraq, foreign affairs, and military matters.
Who are the members of the ISG? Most articles focus on Baker and Hamilton, the heads, but there are ten members. There are five Democrats and five Republicans, no surprise, since the panel was meant to be bipartisan. Let's take a brief look:
(1) James A. Baker, age 76, Republican, Secretary of State under the first Bush
(2) Lee Hamilton, age 75, Democrat, vice-chair of 9/11 Commission, ex-Representative from Indiana with experience on foreign affairs and intelligence committees
(3) Lawrence Eagleburger, age 76, Republican, Secretary of State under the first Bush
(4) Vernon Jordan, age 71, Democrat, businessman, civil rights lawyer and advisor/buddy to Clinton
(5) Edwin Meese III, age 75, Republican, Attorney General under Reagan (controversial involvement in Iran-Contra)
(6) Sandra Day O'Connor, age 76, Republican, lawyer and Supreme Court Justice
(7) Leon Panetta, age 68, Democrat, Congressman (budget, civil rights, health, and environmental issues), Clinton's Chief of Staff
(8) William Perry, age 79, Democrat, Secretary of Defense under Clinton
(9) Chuck Robb, age 67, Democrat, former Marine, ex-governor of Virginia, Senator, Chair of Iraq Intelligence Commission (only member of ISG to venture outside "green zone" in trip to Iraq)
(10) Allen K. Simpson, age 75, Republican, Senator, chair of Veterans' Affairs Committee
One thing that leaps out--and which others have commented on--is that as a whole it's a rather geriatric bunch. This certainly doesn't invalidate the opinions of the members, but it leads us to a presumption that they're not exactly cutting edge. Foreign affairs are represented, in the sense of the State Department (to be extremely specific, the State Department under the first President Bush): Baker and Eagleburger were both Secretary of State under Bush I. Hamilton has relevant Congressional experience; Perry is the only person with a Defense background (under Clinton, under whom he oversaw the post-Cold War reduction of the armed forces), and Robb has both military and intelligence experience.
But fully five of the Group's members (that's half) have little or in most cases no experience at all--not just of Iraq or military matters, but of foreign affairs in general. To me, this is astounding.
Baker and Hamilton picked the members of the group. I don't know whether these were their first picks or not, or how much oversight there was, and if so, by whom. At the time the selection was made, I doubt they realized what scrutiny the results would come under, due to the election.
But these picks are beyond my understanding. If you follow the links and read the biographies, you'll see that Jordan, O'Connor, Meese, Panetta, and probably Simpson (who seems to have a bit of experience with veteran affairs, which is probably not all that relevant to policy in Iraq) have no experience whatsoever in the relevant fields. None. Period.
This is truly hard to fathom. I understand bipartisanship. I understand that these aren't stupid people; they are all intelligent and accomplished, in their own ways. But so are many of us, and we're not on the ISG.
Surely these are not the most qualified people for this particular task. Surely they are not even close. Surely many of them are not qualified at all. And surely the influence of the USIP skewed the results, especially when dealing with minds that may have been somewhat of a tabula rasa on the topic.
[ADDENDUM: Shrinkwrapped diagnoses the ISG.]
Well, I think I can offer a stab at an answer. Who died? The Republican Party in the 2006 election (I know, I know, they didn't die. But they did receive a blow). Who made Baker king? The MSM.
My guess is that had the Republicans won the 2006 elections, we wouldn't have heard much about the ISG recommendations, which have been hyped to the nth degree by the media only since those elections.
The ISG was appointed back in March. Here is its history. It was formed at the suggestion of Congressman Frank Wolf as a bipartisan panel to look at the situation in Iraq with fresh eyes. The panel was affiliated with an entity called the United States Institute of Peace:
The United States Institute of Peace is an independent, nonpartisan, national institution established and funded by Congress. Its mission is to help:
* Prevent and resolve violent international conflicts
* Promote post-conflict stability and democratic transformations
* Increase peacebuilding capacity, tools, and intellectual capital worldwide
In other words, from the start, the ISG was under the aegis of a group dedicated to finding diplomatic solutions rather than to make military suggestions (except, perhaps, in the area of using armed forces as peacekeepers). The USIP was a "facilitating organization" to the Group, meaning:
As facilitator, USIP maintains an in-house Iraq expert committee that supports the ISG principals in their work. USIP has assisted the group and its members by convening expert working groups, writing briefing papers, providing analysis and coordinating meetings of the ISG.
The two heads of the ISG, Baker and Hamilton, were chosen by:
mutual agreement among the Congressional organizers, USIP, and the other supporting organizations. After being named co-chairs, Baker and Hamilton selected the remaining group members in consultation with USIP and the other supporting organizations.
So it was Congress and the USIP who appointed the heads of the ISG, who then appointed everyone else, with the USIP heavily involved. And once you read the goals of the USIP, it becomes crystal clear why the rather deranged suggestion to talk to Iran and Syria, and to resolve the Palestinian/Israeli situation through revival of the DOA "peace process" there, are part and parcel of the ISG recommendations.
I'm sure the USIP is composed of a bunch of nice people dedicated to the pursuit of peace, a laudable cause. And I would imagine that somewhere, somehow, in the right circumstances, they do some fine work--perhaps, for example, in rebuilding places where the fighting parties are exhausted and wanting reconciliation (some of the nations of Africa, for example). Here are more of the USIP's activities:
* Providing on-the-ground operational support in zones of conflict, most recently in Afghanistan, the Balkans, Colombia, Indonesia, Iraq, the Palestinian Territories, Liberia, Nigeria, Philippines, Rwanda, and Sudan. Specific work performed by Institute staff and grantees includes:
o Building leadership capacity through training and workshops
o Facilitating dialogue among parties in conflict
o Identifying and disseminating best practices in conflict management
o Sponsoring leadership summits and strategic conferences
o Promoting the rule of law
o Developing educational and teacher training materials
o Helping build civil society institutions
o Sponsoring a wide range of countrywide working groups (e.g., Afghanistan, Haiti, Iraq, Korea, Sudan)
o Educating the public through informative events, documentary films, radio programs, and an array of other outreach activities
Despite the heavy hand of the USIP and their bias for the talking cure (and I'm not referring to psychotherapy), the ISG still might have been a more worthwhile and balanced endeavor had its members consisted of people with a great deal of expertise on the subject of Iraq, foreign affairs, and military matters.
Who are the members of the ISG? Most articles focus on Baker and Hamilton, the heads, but there are ten members. There are five Democrats and five Republicans, no surprise, since the panel was meant to be bipartisan. Let's take a brief look:
(1) James A. Baker, age 76, Republican, Secretary of State under the first Bush
(2) Lee Hamilton, age 75, Democrat, vice-chair of 9/11 Commission, ex-Representative from Indiana with experience on foreign affairs and intelligence committees
(3) Lawrence Eagleburger, age 76, Republican, Secretary of State under the first Bush
(4) Vernon Jordan, age 71, Democrat, businessman, civil rights lawyer and advisor/buddy to Clinton
(5) Edwin Meese III, age 75, Republican, Attorney General under Reagan (controversial involvement in Iran-Contra)
(6) Sandra Day O'Connor, age 76, Republican, lawyer and Supreme Court Justice
(7) Leon Panetta, age 68, Democrat, Congressman (budget, civil rights, health, and environmental issues), Clinton's Chief of Staff
(8) William Perry, age 79, Democrat, Secretary of Defense under Clinton
(9) Chuck Robb, age 67, Democrat, former Marine, ex-governor of Virginia, Senator, Chair of Iraq Intelligence Commission (only member of ISG to venture outside "green zone" in trip to Iraq)
(10) Allen K. Simpson, age 75, Republican, Senator, chair of Veterans' Affairs Committee
One thing that leaps out--and which others have commented on--is that as a whole it's a rather geriatric bunch. This certainly doesn't invalidate the opinions of the members, but it leads us to a presumption that they're not exactly cutting edge. Foreign affairs are represented, in the sense of the State Department (to be extremely specific, the State Department under the first President Bush): Baker and Eagleburger were both Secretary of State under Bush I. Hamilton has relevant Congressional experience; Perry is the only person with a Defense background (under Clinton, under whom he oversaw the post-Cold War reduction of the armed forces), and Robb has both military and intelligence experience.
But fully five of the Group's members (that's half) have little or in most cases no experience at all--not just of Iraq or military matters, but of foreign affairs in general. To me, this is astounding.
Baker and Hamilton picked the members of the group. I don't know whether these were their first picks or not, or how much oversight there was, and if so, by whom. At the time the selection was made, I doubt they realized what scrutiny the results would come under, due to the election.
But these picks are beyond my understanding. If you follow the links and read the biographies, you'll see that Jordan, O'Connor, Meese, Panetta, and probably Simpson (who seems to have a bit of experience with veteran affairs, which is probably not all that relevant to policy in Iraq) have no experience whatsoever in the relevant fields. None. Period.
This is truly hard to fathom. I understand bipartisanship. I understand that these aren't stupid people; they are all intelligent and accomplished, in their own ways. But so are many of us, and we're not on the ISG.
Surely these are not the most qualified people for this particular task. Surely they are not even close. Surely many of them are not qualified at all. And surely the influence of the USIP skewed the results, especially when dealing with minds that may have been somewhat of a tabula rasa on the topic.
[ADDENDUM: Shrinkwrapped diagnoses the ISG.]
Friday, December 08, 2006
Who said Senators aren't diplomats? More talking about talking with Iran
On the topic of James Baker and Lee Hamilton's suggestion that we talk to Iran and Syria about helping us out in Iraq, I'd say a person would have to be either abysmally stupid, mindbogglingly ignorant, or stark raving mad (or perhaps some combination of all three) to think it might be a good idea. And that's the polite version of what I think.
Victor Davis Hanson calls such a suggestion "surreal." I'm with him, as well.
But Senators--ah, Senators!--are much more refined in questioning whether the ISG's suggestion to turn to Iran for help in Iraq is really the wisest possible course. For example, ISG head James Baker and member Lee Hamilton were quizzed Thursday by Joe Lieberman thusly:
I'm skeptical that it's realistic to think that Iran wants to help the United States succeed in Iraq. They are, after all, supporting (the Islamist militant group) Hezbollah, which gathers people in the square in Beirut to shout "Death to America."
Not to mention that's this is not a recent occurrence: for thirty-five years Iran has been actively working and praying (loudly) for our destruction. Color me "skeptical" about whether the proposal is "realistic," as well.
John McCain's statement on the topic was a bit more to my liking:
I don't believe that a peace conference with people who are dedicated to your extinction has much short-term gain.
Or long term gain, I might add.
But here's Baker on the subject:
What do we lose by saying, "we're getting all of Iraq's neighbors together, we want you to come, and if they say no, we show the world what they're all about?"
That actually is an interesting question that seems reasonable on the face of it. I'll take a stab at an answer: the world already knows exactly what Iran's about, and the world doesn't much care, as long as Iran's not directly affecting them at this moment in any dramatic way. The world is relying on the US to do something about Iran, when/if it should ever become necessary, because "the world" never will. And then, when/if the US ever does act against Iran, "the world" can criticize whatever that action might be. If "the world" doesn't have enough information about Iran's goals and nature by now, then "the world" is willfully ignoring the truth, and has motivations to continue to do so.
What's more, making obeisance to Iran by asking them for "help" (the way such talks have been framed) makes us look both foolish and weak. It's not a winning combination to convey. If I were one of the mullahs, I'd be flabbergasted at the amount of foolish naivete such an act indicated--flabbergasted and pleased.
I've always thought it's usually not good to communicate desperation to one's enemies. But maybe that's just me.
One more thing: many of Iran's people would like to overthrow their government. They look to the US for a sign that we would support them in such an endeavor. I would wager, from what they're seeing of our current behavior re Iraq, they're not getting a lot of assurance that we'd be there for them when the chips are down. But talking with Iran would be just as bad as the message of our possibly abandoning Iraq; it would tell the people who would like to topple the mullahs that we are dangerously out of touch with reality, and willing to bargain with our enemies and sell out our principles in order to do so.
[CORRECTION: Iran, of course, has been working for our destruction since 1979: twenty-seven years, not thirty-five.]
Victor Davis Hanson calls such a suggestion "surreal." I'm with him, as well.
But Senators--ah, Senators!--are much more refined in questioning whether the ISG's suggestion to turn to Iran for help in Iraq is really the wisest possible course. For example, ISG head James Baker and member Lee Hamilton were quizzed Thursday by Joe Lieberman thusly:
I'm skeptical that it's realistic to think that Iran wants to help the United States succeed in Iraq. They are, after all, supporting (the Islamist militant group) Hezbollah, which gathers people in the square in Beirut to shout "Death to America."
Not to mention that's this is not a recent occurrence: for thirty-five years Iran has been actively working and praying (loudly) for our destruction. Color me "skeptical" about whether the proposal is "realistic," as well.
John McCain's statement on the topic was a bit more to my liking:
I don't believe that a peace conference with people who are dedicated to your extinction has much short-term gain.
Or long term gain, I might add.
But here's Baker on the subject:
What do we lose by saying, "we're getting all of Iraq's neighbors together, we want you to come, and if they say no, we show the world what they're all about?"
That actually is an interesting question that seems reasonable on the face of it. I'll take a stab at an answer: the world already knows exactly what Iran's about, and the world doesn't much care, as long as Iran's not directly affecting them at this moment in any dramatic way. The world is relying on the US to do something about Iran, when/if it should ever become necessary, because "the world" never will. And then, when/if the US ever does act against Iran, "the world" can criticize whatever that action might be. If "the world" doesn't have enough information about Iran's goals and nature by now, then "the world" is willfully ignoring the truth, and has motivations to continue to do so.
What's more, making obeisance to Iran by asking them for "help" (the way such talks have been framed) makes us look both foolish and weak. It's not a winning combination to convey. If I were one of the mullahs, I'd be flabbergasted at the amount of foolish naivete such an act indicated--flabbergasted and pleased.
I've always thought it's usually not good to communicate desperation to one's enemies. But maybe that's just me.
One more thing: many of Iran's people would like to overthrow their government. They look to the US for a sign that we would support them in such an endeavor. I would wager, from what they're seeing of our current behavior re Iraq, they're not getting a lot of assurance that we'd be there for them when the chips are down. But talking with Iran would be just as bad as the message of our possibly abandoning Iraq; it would tell the people who would like to topple the mullahs that we are dangerously out of touch with reality, and willing to bargain with our enemies and sell out our principles in order to do so.
[CORRECTION: Iran, of course, has been working for our destruction since 1979: twenty-seven years, not thirty-five.]
What's a blog for if not to garner sympathy?
I'm going to complain. I promise it will be short.
It's freezing, abominably windy, snow on the ground, night will fall in what seems like just a few minutes. And I have a cold.
But at least the power isn't out. Yet. That happens here whenever the wind blows. Something about the number, size, and location of the trees.
Besides being a naked plea for sympathy, this thread is an occasion for you all to either complain about your similar situation (in which case, my condolences), or crow about your wonderful weather.
It's freezing, abominably windy, snow on the ground, night will fall in what seems like just a few minutes. And I have a cold.
But at least the power isn't out. Yet. That happens here whenever the wind blows. Something about the number, size, and location of the trees.
Besides being a naked plea for sympathy, this thread is an occasion for you all to either complain about your similar situation (in which case, my condolences), or crow about your wonderful weather.
Iraqis aren't pleased with the ISG either
Iraqis don't seem to be happy with the ISG report, either (see this).
I have a question: if the Republicans had won the election, would we even be hearing much about this report? After all, it's been brewing since last March, and I don't recall it being all that newsworthy before. But after the election it became the most breathlessly awaited media event since the world wondered who shot JR (for those too old to recall the latter, see this for a glimpse of simpler, kindler, gentler times).
I have a question: if the Republicans had won the election, would we even be hearing much about this report? After all, it's been brewing since last March, and I don't recall it being all that newsworthy before. But after the election it became the most breathlessly awaited media event since the world wondered who shot JR (for those too old to recall the latter, see this for a glimpse of simpler, kindler, gentler times).
Thursday, December 07, 2006
Remembering Pearl Harbor
[Please see this post on forgetting Pearl Harbor.]
We've all learned about Pearl Harbor, but here are some details that I found especially interesting in light of 9/11. Despite having a lot of information that a Japanese attack was coming somewhere, some time soon, the military and the government really couldn't pin down the specifics. This made preparedness very difficult. Sound familiar? It seems to be the nature of the beast.
From Wiki:
U.S. signals intelligence, through the Army's Signal Intelligence Service and the Office of Naval Intelligence's OP-20-G unit, had intercepted and decrypted considerable Japanese diplomatic and naval [citation needed] cipher traffic, though none of those decrypted carried significant tactical military information. Decryption and distribution of this intelligence was capricious and sporadic, and has been blamed on lack of manpower. At best, the information was fragmentary, contradictory, or insufficiently distributed. It was also incompletely understood by decision makers, and poorly unanalyzed. Nothing pointed directly to an attack at Pearl Harbor, and lack of awareness of the Imperial Navy's capabilities led to an underlying belief Pearl Harbor was safely out of harm's way. Only one Hawaiian message (6 December 1941), in a consular cipher, included mention of an attack on Pearl, and it was not decrypted until 8 December 1941.
I hadn't realized--although it stands to reason--that a good many casualties were from friendly fire. This is one of the sad and inevitable ironies of war:
Ninety minutes after it began, the attack was over. 2,403 Americans died (68 were civilians, many killed by American anti-aircraft shrapnel and shells landing in civilian areas, including Honolulu)...
My elderly mother was an adult at the time of Pearl Harbor. She'd always been interested in history (her major in college). Later, she often reminisced with me about historical events she'd lived through. In fact, her earliest memory was of booming guns going off in New York Harbor to celebrate the end of WWI--they frightened her, but the adults chuckled and told her not to fear, the war was over.
In fact, all war was over--it was "the war to end all wars." My mother recalled being taught in her early teens that her generation was the luckiest on earth. Why? because the Kellogg-Briand Pact had just outlawed war.
Well, that'll teach you to listen to your teachers. Because, of course, her generation faced World War II not all that many years later. And, because my mother lived to see 9/11, she was able to tell me that this would be worse than Pearl Harbor and World War II.
It remains to be seen whether she was correct. Both of us would like to think she wasn't.
We've all learned about Pearl Harbor, but here are some details that I found especially interesting in light of 9/11. Despite having a lot of information that a Japanese attack was coming somewhere, some time soon, the military and the government really couldn't pin down the specifics. This made preparedness very difficult. Sound familiar? It seems to be the nature of the beast.
From Wiki:
U.S. signals intelligence, through the Army's Signal Intelligence Service and the Office of Naval Intelligence's OP-20-G unit, had intercepted and decrypted considerable Japanese diplomatic and naval [citation needed] cipher traffic, though none of those decrypted carried significant tactical military information. Decryption and distribution of this intelligence was capricious and sporadic, and has been blamed on lack of manpower. At best, the information was fragmentary, contradictory, or insufficiently distributed. It was also incompletely understood by decision makers, and poorly unanalyzed. Nothing pointed directly to an attack at Pearl Harbor, and lack of awareness of the Imperial Navy's capabilities led to an underlying belief Pearl Harbor was safely out of harm's way. Only one Hawaiian message (6 December 1941), in a consular cipher, included mention of an attack on Pearl, and it was not decrypted until 8 December 1941.
I hadn't realized--although it stands to reason--that a good many casualties were from friendly fire. This is one of the sad and inevitable ironies of war:
Ninety minutes after it began, the attack was over. 2,403 Americans died (68 were civilians, many killed by American anti-aircraft shrapnel and shells landing in civilian areas, including Honolulu)...
My elderly mother was an adult at the time of Pearl Harbor. She'd always been interested in history (her major in college). Later, she often reminisced with me about historical events she'd lived through. In fact, her earliest memory was of booming guns going off in New York Harbor to celebrate the end of WWI--they frightened her, but the adults chuckled and told her not to fear, the war was over.
In fact, all war was over--it was "the war to end all wars." My mother recalled being taught in her early teens that her generation was the luckiest on earth. Why? because the Kellogg-Briand Pact had just outlawed war.
Well, that'll teach you to listen to your teachers. Because, of course, her generation faced World War II not all that many years later. And, because my mother lived to see 9/11, she was able to tell me that this would be worse than Pearl Harbor and World War II.
It remains to be seen whether she was correct. Both of us would like to think she wasn't.
Forgetting Pearl Harbor: the giant rolls over and goes back to sleep
Sixty-five years ago today Pearl Harbor was attacked.
That's long enough ago that only the elderly remember the day and its aftermath with any clarity. Several generations--including my own tiresome one, the baby boomers--have come up since then, and the world has indeed changed.
Prior to 9/11, the Pearl Harbor attack of December 7, 1941 was the closest thing America had to 9/11. The differences between the two were profound, however: at Pearl Harbor we knew the culprit. It was clearly and unequivocally an act of war by the nation of Japan, which was already at war in the Pacific. But it was, like 9/11, a sneak attack that killed roughly the same number of Americans--in the case of Pearl Harbor mostly (although not exclusively) those in the armed forces. And the Pearl Harbor attack, in the reported (but disputed) words of Japanese Admiral Yamamoto, awakened the "sleeping giant" of the US and filled it with a "terrible resolve." This was also true of 9/11--for a little while.
In the case of Pearl Harbor, that resolve lasted the duration of the war, an all-out conflagration that required far more sacrifice of the US (and the world) in money, comfort, and the all-important cost of human lives. The scale of such a loss is not even remotely comparable to that of our present conflict--at least, so far.
In addition, the first years of World War II featured many losses and much peril. It was a different world, however, and failure was not an option.
This Manchester Union Leader editorial in honor of Pearl Harbor makes the point that:
one does not win a war by fighting it with timidness and half-measures. We are on the verge of proving our attackers of five years ago right -- if they kill enough of us, we will lose our will to win.
The important part of that quote is "timidness and half-measures." Yes, our casualties in this war have been light compared to those of WWII. And yes, mistakes were made in both wars--and always will be. But it is impossible to remain politically correct and successfully wage an asymmetrical war against an enemy that uses terrorist tactics. If you're going to try to do that, you may as well not try, because every single life sacrificed to that cause will have been as though it were wasted.
The tactics of World War II don't fit today's war. I'm not suggesting heavy bombardment of civilian populations, for example. I've already made it clear what I would have preferred--an occupation with more teeth and more direction, and a firmer and less-PC hand to control the chaos at the outset.
But tactics aren't the issue. The issue is will. And, in that respect as in many others, current generations don't compare to the one known as "The Greatest Generation."
What will it take to fill us with the "terrible resolve" necessary? Because I sense this giant is only too happy to go back to sleep.
That's long enough ago that only the elderly remember the day and its aftermath with any clarity. Several generations--including my own tiresome one, the baby boomers--have come up since then, and the world has indeed changed.
Prior to 9/11, the Pearl Harbor attack of December 7, 1941 was the closest thing America had to 9/11. The differences between the two were profound, however: at Pearl Harbor we knew the culprit. It was clearly and unequivocally an act of war by the nation of Japan, which was already at war in the Pacific. But it was, like 9/11, a sneak attack that killed roughly the same number of Americans--in the case of Pearl Harbor mostly (although not exclusively) those in the armed forces. And the Pearl Harbor attack, in the reported (but disputed) words of Japanese Admiral Yamamoto, awakened the "sleeping giant" of the US and filled it with a "terrible resolve." This was also true of 9/11--for a little while.
In the case of Pearl Harbor, that resolve lasted the duration of the war, an all-out conflagration that required far more sacrifice of the US (and the world) in money, comfort, and the all-important cost of human lives. The scale of such a loss is not even remotely comparable to that of our present conflict--at least, so far.
In addition, the first years of World War II featured many losses and much peril. It was a different world, however, and failure was not an option.
This Manchester Union Leader editorial in honor of Pearl Harbor makes the point that:
one does not win a war by fighting it with timidness and half-measures. We are on the verge of proving our attackers of five years ago right -- if they kill enough of us, we will lose our will to win.
The important part of that quote is "timidness and half-measures." Yes, our casualties in this war have been light compared to those of WWII. And yes, mistakes were made in both wars--and always will be. But it is impossible to remain politically correct and successfully wage an asymmetrical war against an enemy that uses terrorist tactics. If you're going to try to do that, you may as well not try, because every single life sacrificed to that cause will have been as though it were wasted.
The tactics of World War II don't fit today's war. I'm not suggesting heavy bombardment of civilian populations, for example. I've already made it clear what I would have preferred--an occupation with more teeth and more direction, and a firmer and less-PC hand to control the chaos at the outset.
But tactics aren't the issue. The issue is will. And, in that respect as in many others, current generations don't compare to the one known as "The Greatest Generation."
What will it take to fill us with the "terrible resolve" necessary? Because I sense this giant is only too happy to go back to sleep.
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
Helpful, so helpful
The Washington Post headline: "Experts: Syria, Iran willing to aid USA." Article by the AP, naturally.
What alternative universe do headline writers live in, I wonder? Reporting on the fact that the Iraq Study Group believes that Syria and Iran would be willing to help the needy US, as though this is some sort of newsworthy item, ought to be risible. But unfortunately, the AP is not the Onion. They are serious.
The Arab world, of course, is taking note of our breastbeating festival. Al Jazeera, according to the article, repeatedly aired Gates's testimony that we're not winning in Iraq.
Oh, perhaps al Jazeera's viewers will watch and envy us for our ability to be humble, and to speak truth to power. And then again, their being an honor/shame culture and all, perhaps they'll just take it as a sign that we are giving up, and they are winning. But we all get to feel good about ourselves in the meantime--isn't that the important thing?
And if you detect more than a hint of sarcasm here, you'd be correct.
What alternative universe do headline writers live in, I wonder? Reporting on the fact that the Iraq Study Group believes that Syria and Iran would be willing to help the needy US, as though this is some sort of newsworthy item, ought to be risible. But unfortunately, the AP is not the Onion. They are serious.
The Arab world, of course, is taking note of our breastbeating festival. Al Jazeera, according to the article, repeatedly aired Gates's testimony that we're not winning in Iraq.
Oh, perhaps al Jazeera's viewers will watch and envy us for our ability to be humble, and to speak truth to power. And then again, their being an honor/shame culture and all, perhaps they'll just take it as a sign that we are giving up, and they are winning. But we all get to feel good about ourselves in the meantime--isn't that the important thing?
And if you detect more than a hint of sarcasm here, you'd be correct.
Iraq Study Group report: so, what else is new?
I'm a bit underwhelmed by the Iraq Study Group report "The Way Forward: A New Approach" (see this and this). It reminds me of the usual recommendations by committee; you're familiar with the genre, I'm sure.
"New approach?" Hardly.
I haven't had time to read the full text, but the reports on the report are in line with the leaks on the report we'd gotten prior to the its official debut. The main recommendation seems to be more or less what the Administration has been saying all along--the goal is Iraqization, without an exact timetable. This is combined with the following "new" ideas, leaked prior to the issuance of the report: a temporary upsurge in troop involvement to get over the hump of Iraqization, talks with Iran and Syria (I've written about that idea before, here), and a new commitment to the old failed "peace process" approach to Israel/Palestine. No magic wands, nor were any expected.
I'm a bit perplexed by all the attention paid to the report prior to its release, and even now. Something like this--a public document about future military strategy--needs to be vague and general even if it does contain new and important information. At least, it should be that way if any of its proposals have any chance of being effective. Telegraphing exactly what we plan to do in great detail, and beaming it around the world for the enemy to see, would be counterproductive, to say the least. But many in this country and the MSM, although professing to be citizens of the world, act as though the only important thing is domestic political infighting, and a short-sighted "gotcha!" game.
And, of course, in line with this, some of the MSM articles on the subject (example here) emphasize the Group's criticisms of the current approach. Imagine if, in the middle of the gloomiest days of the Civil War for the North, or World War II for the Allies (and they were pretty much all gloomy for the first couple of years), our own media had emphasized the demoralization of our forces, or the pessimism of our own people. But I digress...
I'm glad and not at all surprised at the seemingly general and rather bland nature of the recommendations. It's really only the details of how Iraqization and the subsequent slow withdrawal of US troops will be carried out that matter on the end; all the rest is bluster.
However, bluster can be harmful, and I'm with Robert Kagan and William Kristol (oh yes, we evil scheming neocons stick together!) on the negative results that have already ensued from all the jaw-jaw about the Iraq Study Group, to wit:
It's not as if the Baker commission has accomplished nothing, however. Although its recommendations will have no effect on American policy going forward, they have already had a very damaging effect throughout the world, and especially in the Middle East and in Iraq. For the Iraq Study Group, aided by supportive American media, has successfully conveyed the impression to everyone at home and abroad that the United States is about to withdraw from Iraq. This has weakened American allies and strengthened American enemies. It has exacerbated the problems in Iraq, as all the various factions in that country begin to prepare for the "inevitable" American retreat. Now it will require enormous efforts by the president and his advisers to dispel the disastrous impression that the Baker commission has quite deliberately created and will continue to foster in the weeks ahead. At home and abroad, people have been led to believe that Jim Baker and not the president was going to call the shots in Iraq from now on.
As yes, outside of the echo chamber that is Congress and the MSM the news gets around, and it has consequences. But we needn't worry too much about any of those: we can always talk with the enemy about them.
[NOTE: re Iraqization vs Vietnamization, you might want to review this.]
"New approach?" Hardly.
I haven't had time to read the full text, but the reports on the report are in line with the leaks on the report we'd gotten prior to the its official debut. The main recommendation seems to be more or less what the Administration has been saying all along--the goal is Iraqization, without an exact timetable. This is combined with the following "new" ideas, leaked prior to the issuance of the report: a temporary upsurge in troop involvement to get over the hump of Iraqization, talks with Iran and Syria (I've written about that idea before, here), and a new commitment to the old failed "peace process" approach to Israel/Palestine. No magic wands, nor were any expected.
I'm a bit perplexed by all the attention paid to the report prior to its release, and even now. Something like this--a public document about future military strategy--needs to be vague and general even if it does contain new and important information. At least, it should be that way if any of its proposals have any chance of being effective. Telegraphing exactly what we plan to do in great detail, and beaming it around the world for the enemy to see, would be counterproductive, to say the least. But many in this country and the MSM, although professing to be citizens of the world, act as though the only important thing is domestic political infighting, and a short-sighted "gotcha!" game.
And, of course, in line with this, some of the MSM articles on the subject (example here) emphasize the Group's criticisms of the current approach. Imagine if, in the middle of the gloomiest days of the Civil War for the North, or World War II for the Allies (and they were pretty much all gloomy for the first couple of years), our own media had emphasized the demoralization of our forces, or the pessimism of our own people. But I digress...
I'm glad and not at all surprised at the seemingly general and rather bland nature of the recommendations. It's really only the details of how Iraqization and the subsequent slow withdrawal of US troops will be carried out that matter on the end; all the rest is bluster.
However, bluster can be harmful, and I'm with Robert Kagan and William Kristol (oh yes, we evil scheming neocons stick together!) on the negative results that have already ensued from all the jaw-jaw about the Iraq Study Group, to wit:
It's not as if the Baker commission has accomplished nothing, however. Although its recommendations will have no effect on American policy going forward, they have already had a very damaging effect throughout the world, and especially in the Middle East and in Iraq. For the Iraq Study Group, aided by supportive American media, has successfully conveyed the impression to everyone at home and abroad that the United States is about to withdraw from Iraq. This has weakened American allies and strengthened American enemies. It has exacerbated the problems in Iraq, as all the various factions in that country begin to prepare for the "inevitable" American retreat. Now it will require enormous efforts by the president and his advisers to dispel the disastrous impression that the Baker commission has quite deliberately created and will continue to foster in the weeks ahead. At home and abroad, people have been led to believe that Jim Baker and not the president was going to call the shots in Iraq from now on.
As yes, outside of the echo chamber that is Congress and the MSM the news gets around, and it has consequences. But we needn't worry too much about any of those: we can always talk with the enemy about them.
[NOTE: re Iraqization vs Vietnamization, you might want to review this.]
The Sanity Squad: Bolton and the UN, and the arrogant AP
The new Sanity Squad podcast is up. This week we discuss Bolton's leavetaking--and whether it even matters, given what the UN has become. We also offer our take on allegations that the AP is playing fast and loose with the facts, once again.
So join me, Siggy, Dr. Sanity, and Shrink for another free session.
So join me, Siggy, Dr. Sanity, and Shrink for another free session.
Don't feed the trolls
Once again, I want to remind people to ignore trolls.
I plan soon to be getting enough time to redesign the blog in order to better deal with them. Till then, the best thing to do is ignore them rather than engage them. As a reminder, the following are banned trolls: loki, alphie, justaguy, and stevie. Of course, several of them do not stick to these names, so it's only by IP and other details I'm privy to that I can identify them if they do so.
The new system should circumvent the present problems and make it far more difficult for trolls to get around the bans. Till then, I ask, once again, that people simply not respond to any troll comments, even those that seem like they invite a rational argument. It won't stay rational or polite for long.
[ADDENDUM: Just for clarification, I want to state that once a troll has been banned, all comments by that troll will be deleted, including ones that seem reasonable and would otherwise be acceptable. Commenting here is a privilege, and once you've lost it, you've lost it.]
I plan soon to be getting enough time to redesign the blog in order to better deal with them. Till then, the best thing to do is ignore them rather than engage them. As a reminder, the following are banned trolls: loki, alphie, justaguy, and stevie. Of course, several of them do not stick to these names, so it's only by IP and other details I'm privy to that I can identify them if they do so.
The new system should circumvent the present problems and make it far more difficult for trolls to get around the bans. Till then, I ask, once again, that people simply not respond to any troll comments, even those that seem like they invite a rational argument. It won't stay rational or polite for long.
[ADDENDUM: Just for clarification, I want to state that once a troll has been banned, all comments by that troll will be deleted, including ones that seem reasonable and would otherwise be acceptable. Commenting here is a privilege, and once you've lost it, you've lost it.]
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
The many faces of democracy: Venezuela's version
I haven't said anything much so far about Hugo Chavez, who recently won the Venezuelan election handily.
Take a look at what Fausta's written about it for some perspective. It's a sorry tale but not an unfamiliar one: demagoguery, Leftism, consolidation of power, shutting down of the opposition. Democracy in name only. And take a look at what Marc Cooper (definitely not a man of the Right), has to say about Chavez; apparently, Chavez is also a Leftist in name only.
But that's the history of Leftism the world around, is it not? Ye shall always have the rich with you.
Also please read this sad elegy for a lost Venezuela by Daniel at Venezuela News and Views. An excerpt:
Today it was quite a hallucinating day. Oh, I was not surprised. My carefully documented predictions were giving Chavez a victory by 5 points. It might be by almost 20 points when all is counted. But with Chavez it does not matter, even with a single vote majority he would go ahead and try to do as he pleases. There is no brake for him. He is not a democrat. A democrat is always aware of the rights of the minority because a democrat knows that one day he might be that minority. Chavismo has made it clear long ago that all revolves around Chavez and that there is no other option for Venezuela. Elections are a necessary ritual that is extremely expensive but a necessity to justify all sorts of other different abuses. Unfortunate Rosales was not running against Chavez, he was running against a whole state whose complete resources were at the service of the autocrat who needs a regular plebiscite to boost his ego.
And thus today the amateur historian in me realizes that he has had the privilege to witness an historical day, the day that democracy completely left Venezuela. We have lost it.
I believe that democracy is in general a good thing. I'm with Churchill when he said it's the worst form of government in the world except for all the others. However, democracy is fragile for a reason--it is susceptible to demagogues, relies on an informed citizenry, and can be undermined by tyranny if it doesn't include strong and enforceable guarantees of civil liberties.
That's why our form of government--which is actually a republic, not a true democracy --has been so stable and so unusual. Republicanism (and I'm not talking about the political party, I'm talking about the form of government: see this) is one of the greatest inventions of the human race. But that's quite a bit different from simply allowing people to vote; Republicanism (or a free and well-functioning democracy) requires institutions that prevent a takeover by the forces of tyranny:
Democracies are free only if the people know what freedom is and are consistent in their application of it. If they don't know this, or more appropriately, if a majority of the people don't know this, then a democracy could be just as tyrannical as the worst dictator...As should be plain, there is a giant difference between the two systems of government. One of the main fears at the Constitutional Convention of the United States was that the government they created would be too democratic (causing Alexander Hamilton to suggest a restricted monarchy), because it was quite obvious, then and now, that any majority could vote itself anything it wanted, be it property or executions.
That's why I always assumed that the Iraq War was going to have to include a fairly heavy-handed and lengthy occupation in order to set up the institutions that would foster the freedoms that go with democracy/republicanism. We did it in Japan; MacArthur and his staff wrote the Japanese Constitution, and it survives today without change; thirty-nine articles deal with basic human liberties. If that's cultural imperialism, I'll take it.
These guarantees are necessary, or democracy can--and most probably will--fail to be "the worst form of government except all the others;" it will merely take its place alongside all the others.
Take a look at what Fausta's written about it for some perspective. It's a sorry tale but not an unfamiliar one: demagoguery, Leftism, consolidation of power, shutting down of the opposition. Democracy in name only. And take a look at what Marc Cooper (definitely not a man of the Right), has to say about Chavez; apparently, Chavez is also a Leftist in name only.
But that's the history of Leftism the world around, is it not? Ye shall always have the rich with you.
Also please read this sad elegy for a lost Venezuela by Daniel at Venezuela News and Views. An excerpt:
Today it was quite a hallucinating day. Oh, I was not surprised. My carefully documented predictions were giving Chavez a victory by 5 points. It might be by almost 20 points when all is counted. But with Chavez it does not matter, even with a single vote majority he would go ahead and try to do as he pleases. There is no brake for him. He is not a democrat. A democrat is always aware of the rights of the minority because a democrat knows that one day he might be that minority. Chavismo has made it clear long ago that all revolves around Chavez and that there is no other option for Venezuela. Elections are a necessary ritual that is extremely expensive but a necessity to justify all sorts of other different abuses. Unfortunate Rosales was not running against Chavez, he was running against a whole state whose complete resources were at the service of the autocrat who needs a regular plebiscite to boost his ego.
And thus today the amateur historian in me realizes that he has had the privilege to witness an historical day, the day that democracy completely left Venezuela. We have lost it.
I believe that democracy is in general a good thing. I'm with Churchill when he said it's the worst form of government in the world except for all the others. However, democracy is fragile for a reason--it is susceptible to demagogues, relies on an informed citizenry, and can be undermined by tyranny if it doesn't include strong and enforceable guarantees of civil liberties.
That's why our form of government--which is actually a republic, not a true democracy --has been so stable and so unusual. Republicanism (and I'm not talking about the political party, I'm talking about the form of government: see this) is one of the greatest inventions of the human race. But that's quite a bit different from simply allowing people to vote; Republicanism (or a free and well-functioning democracy) requires institutions that prevent a takeover by the forces of tyranny:
Democracies are free only if the people know what freedom is and are consistent in their application of it. If they don't know this, or more appropriately, if a majority of the people don't know this, then a democracy could be just as tyrannical as the worst dictator...As should be plain, there is a giant difference between the two systems of government. One of the main fears at the Constitutional Convention of the United States was that the government they created would be too democratic (causing Alexander Hamilton to suggest a restricted monarchy), because it was quite obvious, then and now, that any majority could vote itself anything it wanted, be it property or executions.
That's why I always assumed that the Iraq War was going to have to include a fairly heavy-handed and lengthy occupation in order to set up the institutions that would foster the freedoms that go with democracy/republicanism. We did it in Japan; MacArthur and his staff wrote the Japanese Constitution, and it survives today without change; thirty-nine articles deal with basic human liberties. If that's cultural imperialism, I'll take it.
These guarantees are necessary, or democracy can--and most probably will--fail to be "the worst form of government except all the others;" it will merely take its place alongside all the others.
Monday, December 04, 2006
Freedom of speeches: the press takes some liberties
One major element in my political change process was my loss of faith in the MSM based on something as simple, and easily checkable, as its reporting of the speeches of public figures.
I say "easily checkable," because, with the advent of the internet, it is. As long as a person is willing to make a small effort and take a little extra time, most MSM reports of what a speaker says can be checked against the actual words he/she did say.
The majority of readers, of course, still don't do that. But until recently, almost no one did; the effort and resources required, pre-web, were far greater. So it was less apparent then than it is now that the media regularly distorted the words of many public figures (and who knows? Maybe the practice was actually less common back then).
I first learned about the ubiquity of speech misrepresentation in the MSM through my post-9/11 online reading. At the time it shocked me. It no longer does (I've come to expect it), although it still angers me.
Now I tend to wonder about its causes: is it a reflection of poor reading comprehension, unconscious distortion, or purposeful and knowing misrepresentation, or some combination/alternation of them all?
Now here's a review of a book by communications professor Jim A. Kuypers, detailing media bias in reporting Bush's speeches. It's entitled Bush's War: Media Bias and Justifications for War in a Terrorist Age, and presents an apparently nonpartisan and sobering look at just how incredibly distorted and biased the press has been in distorting Bush's message:
What has essentially happened since 9/11 has been that Bush has repeated the same themes, and framed those themes the same whenever discussing the War on Terror,” said Kuypers, who specializes in political communication and rhetoric. “Immediately following 9/11, the mainstream news media (represented by CBS, ABC, NBC, USA Today, New York Times, and Washington Post) did echo Bush, but within eight weeks it began to intentionally ignore certain information the president was sharing, and instead reframed the president's themes or intentionally introduced new material to shift the focus.”
This goes beyond reporting alternate points of view. “In short,” Kupyers explained, “if someone were relying only on the mainstream media for information, they would have no idea what the president actually said. It was as if the press were reporting on a different speech.”
That's a pretty powerful statement.
In my earlier post today, I spoke of the need for leadership. Part of leadership involves rhetoric, and Bush is obviously no Churchill. But could even Churchill get his message across in the face of such a concerted effort by his own press to distort it?
I say "easily checkable," because, with the advent of the internet, it is. As long as a person is willing to make a small effort and take a little extra time, most MSM reports of what a speaker says can be checked against the actual words he/she did say.
The majority of readers, of course, still don't do that. But until recently, almost no one did; the effort and resources required, pre-web, were far greater. So it was less apparent then than it is now that the media regularly distorted the words of many public figures (and who knows? Maybe the practice was actually less common back then).
I first learned about the ubiquity of speech misrepresentation in the MSM through my post-9/11 online reading. At the time it shocked me. It no longer does (I've come to expect it), although it still angers me.
Now I tend to wonder about its causes: is it a reflection of poor reading comprehension, unconscious distortion, or purposeful and knowing misrepresentation, or some combination/alternation of them all?
Now here's a review of a book by communications professor Jim A. Kuypers, detailing media bias in reporting Bush's speeches. It's entitled Bush's War: Media Bias and Justifications for War in a Terrorist Age, and presents an apparently nonpartisan and sobering look at just how incredibly distorted and biased the press has been in distorting Bush's message:
What has essentially happened since 9/11 has been that Bush has repeated the same themes, and framed those themes the same whenever discussing the War on Terror,” said Kuypers, who specializes in political communication and rhetoric. “Immediately following 9/11, the mainstream news media (represented by CBS, ABC, NBC, USA Today, New York Times, and Washington Post) did echo Bush, but within eight weeks it began to intentionally ignore certain information the president was sharing, and instead reframed the president's themes or intentionally introduced new material to shift the focus.”
This goes beyond reporting alternate points of view. “In short,” Kupyers explained, “if someone were relying only on the mainstream media for information, they would have no idea what the president actually said. It was as if the press were reporting on a different speech.”
That's a pretty powerful statement.
In my earlier post today, I spoke of the need for leadership. Part of leadership involves rhetoric, and Bush is obviously no Churchill. But could even Churchill get his message across in the face of such a concerted effort by his own press to distort it?
What now?: the necessity of leadership
Michael Barone is one who doesn't see Bush's promise to persevere in Iraq as a joke and/or a travesty and/or an outrage.
Neither does John McCain, who disagrees with the details of Bush's policy, but sees "staying the course" with more troops as both morally and tactically necessary, not fewer. When does McCain think we should leave Iraq?:
When I think we've exhausted every possibility to do what is necessary to succeed and not until then, because the consequences of failure are catastrophic. . . . We left Vietnam, it was over, we just had to heal the wounds of war. We leave this place, chaos in the region and they'll follow us home. So there's a great deal more at stake here in this conflict in my view.
And me? I've never written on the issue of more troops or less, because that subject seems to require a specialized sort of knowledge that I don't have. I simply note that those with that knowledge have always differed widely on the question.
But I will state the following: right from the start, although I wasn't writing a blog at the time, I was very disturbed by the hands-off attitude of those in charge of the occupation. I say "occupation" because that's what it always was, or should have been. We defeated Iraq in war--although, granted, it was a short war their armed forces mainly chose not to fight. Afterwards, it was our duty to the Iraqis, as well as in our own interests, to be effective in reconstructing a country that had been shattered--not by our war, but by the preceding decades of horror, murder, and divisive brutality, and by a lack of any recent tradition of democracy or cooperation in that country.
The failure to shoot looters at the outset was a bad sign of an approach that was unrealistic on our part about the possibility of resultant chaos. It's a bit like the first day of school, when a class takes the measure of a teacher, who has to establish his/her authority at the outset or be forever considered a wimp and possible victim. We didn't want to be a heavy occupying force, and I understood that, but we had to acknowledge that we were there to control things for a while, and that message was not properly delivered. Another turning point--and a far more important one--was our failure to apply Draconian measures to al Sadr when he was just getting started, as well as our initial stalling in Fallujah and other similar areas of enemy control and influence.
You can't go back--you can only go forward. At this point, I'm with Barone in looking at historical examples of war leadership when things looked dismal:
...remember that for Truman on Korea and for Churchill after Dunkirk, no promising military courses were immediately apparent. Truman, after firing Gen. Douglas MacArthur, had forsaken the threat -- a nuclear attack -- that his successor Dwight Eisenhower deployed to get the communists to agree to a truce.
But Truman's perseverance despite his 22 percent job approval -- much lower than Bush's -- was essential in preserving the independence of South Korea, which now has the world's 14th-largest economy. Churchill, facing Hitler alone, could promise only "blood, toil, tears and sweat" until his enemies' mistakes -- Hitler's attack on the Soviet Union, the Japanese strike on Pearl Harbor -- gave him the allies that made victory possible...
Bush isn't Churchill in the leadership/rhetoric department, not by a longshot. But then, who is? If we wait around for a Churchill, there'll be a long wait coming.
Is Bush a Truman? Closer, perhaps--Truman was no orator, and his intelligence wasn't highly respected. One difference, of course, was that Truman was not operating under the handicap of constant Vietnam comparisons.
Leadership is hard to quantify, difficult to describe. But we know it when we see it. Right now it's necessary, although Bush, unfortunately, isn't a natural at conveying it. But in the future, as in the past, actions will speak louder than words--although words are definitely an important part of the way a leader inspires.
Neither does John McCain, who disagrees with the details of Bush's policy, but sees "staying the course" with more troops as both morally and tactically necessary, not fewer. When does McCain think we should leave Iraq?:
When I think we've exhausted every possibility to do what is necessary to succeed and not until then, because the consequences of failure are catastrophic. . . . We left Vietnam, it was over, we just had to heal the wounds of war. We leave this place, chaos in the region and they'll follow us home. So there's a great deal more at stake here in this conflict in my view.
And me? I've never written on the issue of more troops or less, because that subject seems to require a specialized sort of knowledge that I don't have. I simply note that those with that knowledge have always differed widely on the question.
But I will state the following: right from the start, although I wasn't writing a blog at the time, I was very disturbed by the hands-off attitude of those in charge of the occupation. I say "occupation" because that's what it always was, or should have been. We defeated Iraq in war--although, granted, it was a short war their armed forces mainly chose not to fight. Afterwards, it was our duty to the Iraqis, as well as in our own interests, to be effective in reconstructing a country that had been shattered--not by our war, but by the preceding decades of horror, murder, and divisive brutality, and by a lack of any recent tradition of democracy or cooperation in that country.
The failure to shoot looters at the outset was a bad sign of an approach that was unrealistic on our part about the possibility of resultant chaos. It's a bit like the first day of school, when a class takes the measure of a teacher, who has to establish his/her authority at the outset or be forever considered a wimp and possible victim. We didn't want to be a heavy occupying force, and I understood that, but we had to acknowledge that we were there to control things for a while, and that message was not properly delivered. Another turning point--and a far more important one--was our failure to apply Draconian measures to al Sadr when he was just getting started, as well as our initial stalling in Fallujah and other similar areas of enemy control and influence.
You can't go back--you can only go forward. At this point, I'm with Barone in looking at historical examples of war leadership when things looked dismal:
...remember that for Truman on Korea and for Churchill after Dunkirk, no promising military courses were immediately apparent. Truman, after firing Gen. Douglas MacArthur, had forsaken the threat -- a nuclear attack -- that his successor Dwight Eisenhower deployed to get the communists to agree to a truce.
But Truman's perseverance despite his 22 percent job approval -- much lower than Bush's -- was essential in preserving the independence of South Korea, which now has the world's 14th-largest economy. Churchill, facing Hitler alone, could promise only "blood, toil, tears and sweat" until his enemies' mistakes -- Hitler's attack on the Soviet Union, the Japanese strike on Pearl Harbor -- gave him the allies that made victory possible...
Bush isn't Churchill in the leadership/rhetoric department, not by a longshot. But then, who is? If we wait around for a Churchill, there'll be a long wait coming.
Is Bush a Truman? Closer, perhaps--Truman was no orator, and his intelligence wasn't highly respected. One difference, of course, was that Truman was not operating under the handicap of constant Vietnam comparisons.
Leadership is hard to quantify, difficult to describe. But we know it when we see it. Right now it's necessary, although Bush, unfortunately, isn't a natural at conveying it. But in the future, as in the past, actions will speak louder than words--although words are definitely an important part of the way a leader inspires.
Sunday, December 03, 2006
Instant historians: an oxymoron?
...(or--forgive the pun--perhaps "oxymorons?")
Historian Vincent J. Cannato has an op-ed in the Washington Post rightly critical of historians' tendency to make instant judgments of Presidencies, both of Bush and others.
I always thought historians were those who wrote about the past after the passage of a reasonable amount of time, and journalists and pundits were--well, there's a lot of things I could call them, but we'll stick with "chroniclers of the present, taking a snapshot in time." Historians are distinguished by waiting, reflection, research, and analyzing the long-term consequences of actions taken. Not with predicting those consequences, but actually studying them, because they have occurred.
That's not to say that history is infallible; surely not. I've written before about some of the problems inherent in writing history, especially history with an agenda--and everyone's got an agenda, whether upfront about it or not.
Churchill is an interesting case in point. After the WWI debacle of his Admiralty decisions concerning the Dardanelles and Gallipoli (see this as well), the judgment of history would have been "Stupidity. Failure. Poor judgment." During the thirties, Churchill was practically a laughingstock in Parliament, a man whose dire warnings about Hitler and Germany were widely considered almost demented and rather pathetic.
Of course, history has vindicated Churchill. Yes, he had flaws, but history calls him "great." Of course in this, as in many other things, Churchill was both uncommonly prescient and uncommonly articulate; he said, "History will be kind to me, for I intend to write it."
That's not the only reason history has been kind to Churchill. But shortly after WWII, when one would have thought he would have been a hero to all, the electorate voted him out of office. The judgments of the present are not the same as the viewpoint of history.
This is what Cannato cautions on Bush. Of course, we all need to make judgments in the present based on incomplete knowledge, and we all lack the ability to foretell the future. But that's not the same as declaring we already know the judgment of history. Folks such as Michael Lind would do well to heed that caution (hat tip: Done With Mirrors).
Historian Vincent J. Cannato has an op-ed in the Washington Post rightly critical of historians' tendency to make instant judgments of Presidencies, both of Bush and others.
I always thought historians were those who wrote about the past after the passage of a reasonable amount of time, and journalists and pundits were--well, there's a lot of things I could call them, but we'll stick with "chroniclers of the present, taking a snapshot in time." Historians are distinguished by waiting, reflection, research, and analyzing the long-term consequences of actions taken. Not with predicting those consequences, but actually studying them, because they have occurred.
That's not to say that history is infallible; surely not. I've written before about some of the problems inherent in writing history, especially history with an agenda--and everyone's got an agenda, whether upfront about it or not.
Churchill is an interesting case in point. After the WWI debacle of his Admiralty decisions concerning the Dardanelles and Gallipoli (see this as well), the judgment of history would have been "Stupidity. Failure. Poor judgment." During the thirties, Churchill was practically a laughingstock in Parliament, a man whose dire warnings about Hitler and Germany were widely considered almost demented and rather pathetic.
Of course, history has vindicated Churchill. Yes, he had flaws, but history calls him "great." Of course in this, as in many other things, Churchill was both uncommonly prescient and uncommonly articulate; he said, "History will be kind to me, for I intend to write it."
That's not the only reason history has been kind to Churchill. But shortly after WWII, when one would have thought he would have been a hero to all, the electorate voted him out of office. The judgments of the present are not the same as the viewpoint of history.
This is what Cannato cautions on Bush. Of course, we all need to make judgments in the present based on incomplete knowledge, and we all lack the ability to foretell the future. But that's not the same as declaring we already know the judgment of history. Folks such as Michael Lind would do well to heed that caution (hat tip: Done With Mirrors).
Friday, December 01, 2006
Talking with Iran and divorce mediation: the naked emperor (shh, little child!)
It's not just that I disagree with the "we need to talk with Iran" folks. It's that they actually seem demented and deluded. Their suggestion makes no sense--or about as much sense as "talk with Hitler" would have made in the middle of WWII.
Faith in the overwhelming power of talk has gone beyond the bounds of rationality into an irrational and yet strongly-held belief system. I read pundits and watch talking heads nodding in agreement that talking with Iran might just be the ticket, the get-out-of-jail-free (or relatively free) card needed for extricating us from a difficult situation in Iraq. And it seems patently absurd to me, actually laughable--if it didn't have such potentially enormous consequences.
I usually manage to see some sort of reason in the proposals of the other side, however much I may disagree with them. But this proposal seems so dangerously divorced from reality as to be as absurd as the emperor prancing around nude when he thinks he has a fabulous suit of clothing on, while those on my side seem like the voices of the little child shouting "But wait! He's naked. Don't you see it?"
Iran is not only our enemy, it's our overt and blatant enemy, and has been since 1979. Ever since its revolution, Iran has been boldly proclaiming its aim to destroy us--the Great Satan. We are so unacquainted with evil that, to many, the over-the-top nature of such charges sound almost comical; surely, they can't be serious (in much the same way, many dismissed Hitler as ridiculous: the strutting, the rhetoric, the silly little mustache).
But, we cannot afford to not take Iran seriously, any more than we could with Hitler. And, although the turmoil in Iraq is multiply-determined, one of the proximate causes is the direct and intentional influence of Iran in that country.
Frank Gaffney says it well in the Daily News:
...the new talk-to-Iran conventional wisdom is irresponsible.
Why? Because Iran is, hands down, the main impediment to freedom and stability in Iraq. Together with its client state, Syria, Iran is directly implicated in murderous attacks on American forces in Iraq. Iran is arming and training Shiite militias. And it's using violence, intelligence and money to dominate oil-rich southern Iraq.
If we have any hope of turning the tide in Iraq, our strategy must negate those threats. Diplomatic appeasement won't work. Mahmoud Ahmadinejad and the mullahs who run the show in Tehran will only be emboldened and intensify their efforts to dominate the region and destroy those who stand in their way.
Instead, it's time for a concerted effort to isolate, counter and help the Iranian people take down that regime from within.
To do so, we need to adapt theCold War strategy Ronald Reagan used to destroy the Soviet Union. It is an urban legend that Reagan brought down "the Evil Empire" by negotiating with Mikhail Gorbachev.
Nonsense. In fact, Reagan systematically cut off the USSR's funding, empowered its opponents and thwarted its military programs. Similarly, we should use political, financial and intelligence tools to enable the mullahs' domestic opponents to undermine their power.
An enemy is an enemy, and pretending it's not is a self-destructive act. Munich and Chamberlain comparisons are, once again, very apt. Those who say that Iran can't hurt us because they are militarily weak ignore the fact that they are already hurting us through asymmetrical warfare and propaganda, and that they are pursuing a path that will give them atomic weapons for blackmail or actual use.
I've written before about the futility of talking with this particular enemy. But now I'm curious to understand what motivates those who advocate such talk in the face of overwhelming evidence of its futility and its danger. My current hypothesis is that it's another example of the progress we've made in the West (which I wrote about yesterday): our own society has become so relatively peaceful, benign, and cooperative that many have lost sight of the fact that reason is not always possible--and that tyranny and cruelty, and lust for power and control, exist on a scale (in other nations such as Iran) that would make any fears about BushHitler, the Patriot Act, wiretapping, Guantanamo, and all the other myriad charges the Left has against the Bush Administration (trumped up or otherwise) seem like a walk in the proverbial park.
Among other things I've done in my life, I was briefly a divorce mediator. It sounded like a great idea, and sometimes it is: get the warring parties to sit down , away from those lawyers who stir things up and often lead to an even more adversarial climate, and have the couple talk it out together. After all, these people are married, and once loved each other, right? Surely they would have the ability to agree to things that, after all, are in their best interests to solve by themselves?
And I quickly learned the first rule of divorce mediation. As far as I know I'm the person who originated it, so I'll state it here: if divorce mediation works, the couple usually didn't need a mediator in the first place; they could have done it themselves with only the help of a booklet explaining the laws of their state. Oh, it's nice to have a little guidance to keep things on track, but it's not really all that necessary in most cases, and it costs money.
But there are always a number of cases--and the number is not small--where divorce mediation not only does not work, but leads to greater turmoil and/or inequity. If the bitterness is too huge, it affords the couple the opportunity to engage in more and more vicious exchanges to no avail, whereas dealing with lawyers at least gets them out of each others' faces. And in particular, if there's a differential of power, or any sort of abusive situation (and sometimes that's a thing the mediator cannot determine at the outset), mediation can lead to a far less equitable solution, one in which the weaker party gets a manifestly unjust settlement, despite the pretense of biparty acquiescence.
The divorce mediation situation, of course, is hardly analogous to talking with Iran. But it's an example of the limits of conversation, despite a firm belief in its power. And talking with an enemy such as Iran, where there is no common ground for agreement and no common goals, is far far worse. At stake are not just the assets and children of a married couple--which, of course, are important--but the future of millions of people, of history.
Chamberlain had an excuse, he didn't have the example of Munich before him. What's ours?
[ADDENDUM: To those who mentioned the precedent of talking with the USSR, I replied in the comments section, and am reproducing my reply here:
The USSR and the US agreed on some common goals. They didn't want to blow each other to kingdom come, for starters. The USSR was a secular government (not a religious one) interested in power in this world, not matyrdom in the next. They also cared at least somewhat about the welfare of their people, if only as a demonstration of the superiority of their system.
None of that is true of Iran. There is no common ground for a talk. If by "talk" you mean threats with a big stick to back them up, I'm all for talking. But that's not what these particular talks would be about. The talks that are proposed right now are to elicit Iran's cooperation in covering a planned retreat from Iraq, to "stabilize" the country. The only stabilization Iran is interested in there is stabilization under Iran's thumb, and they will say anything and do anything to get it. Thus talks are inherently duplicitous and counterproductive.]
Faith in the overwhelming power of talk has gone beyond the bounds of rationality into an irrational and yet strongly-held belief system. I read pundits and watch talking heads nodding in agreement that talking with Iran might just be the ticket, the get-out-of-jail-free (or relatively free) card needed for extricating us from a difficult situation in Iraq. And it seems patently absurd to me, actually laughable--if it didn't have such potentially enormous consequences.
I usually manage to see some sort of reason in the proposals of the other side, however much I may disagree with them. But this proposal seems so dangerously divorced from reality as to be as absurd as the emperor prancing around nude when he thinks he has a fabulous suit of clothing on, while those on my side seem like the voices of the little child shouting "But wait! He's naked. Don't you see it?"
Iran is not only our enemy, it's our overt and blatant enemy, and has been since 1979. Ever since its revolution, Iran has been boldly proclaiming its aim to destroy us--the Great Satan. We are so unacquainted with evil that, to many, the over-the-top nature of such charges sound almost comical; surely, they can't be serious (in much the same way, many dismissed Hitler as ridiculous: the strutting, the rhetoric, the silly little mustache).
But, we cannot afford to not take Iran seriously, any more than we could with Hitler. And, although the turmoil in Iraq is multiply-determined, one of the proximate causes is the direct and intentional influence of Iran in that country.
Frank Gaffney says it well in the Daily News:
...the new talk-to-Iran conventional wisdom is irresponsible.
Why? Because Iran is, hands down, the main impediment to freedom and stability in Iraq. Together with its client state, Syria, Iran is directly implicated in murderous attacks on American forces in Iraq. Iran is arming and training Shiite militias. And it's using violence, intelligence and money to dominate oil-rich southern Iraq.
If we have any hope of turning the tide in Iraq, our strategy must negate those threats. Diplomatic appeasement won't work. Mahmoud Ahmadinejad and the mullahs who run the show in Tehran will only be emboldened and intensify their efforts to dominate the region and destroy those who stand in their way.
Instead, it's time for a concerted effort to isolate, counter and help the Iranian people take down that regime from within.
To do so, we need to adapt theCold War strategy Ronald Reagan used to destroy the Soviet Union. It is an urban legend that Reagan brought down "the Evil Empire" by negotiating with Mikhail Gorbachev.
Nonsense. In fact, Reagan systematically cut off the USSR's funding, empowered its opponents and thwarted its military programs. Similarly, we should use political, financial and intelligence tools to enable the mullahs' domestic opponents to undermine their power.
An enemy is an enemy, and pretending it's not is a self-destructive act. Munich and Chamberlain comparisons are, once again, very apt. Those who say that Iran can't hurt us because they are militarily weak ignore the fact that they are already hurting us through asymmetrical warfare and propaganda, and that they are pursuing a path that will give them atomic weapons for blackmail or actual use.
I've written before about the futility of talking with this particular enemy. But now I'm curious to understand what motivates those who advocate such talk in the face of overwhelming evidence of its futility and its danger. My current hypothesis is that it's another example of the progress we've made in the West (which I wrote about yesterday): our own society has become so relatively peaceful, benign, and cooperative that many have lost sight of the fact that reason is not always possible--and that tyranny and cruelty, and lust for power and control, exist on a scale (in other nations such as Iran) that would make any fears about BushHitler, the Patriot Act, wiretapping, Guantanamo, and all the other myriad charges the Left has against the Bush Administration (trumped up or otherwise) seem like a walk in the proverbial park.
Among other things I've done in my life, I was briefly a divorce mediator. It sounded like a great idea, and sometimes it is: get the warring parties to sit down , away from those lawyers who stir things up and often lead to an even more adversarial climate, and have the couple talk it out together. After all, these people are married, and once loved each other, right? Surely they would have the ability to agree to things that, after all, are in their best interests to solve by themselves?
And I quickly learned the first rule of divorce mediation. As far as I know I'm the person who originated it, so I'll state it here: if divorce mediation works, the couple usually didn't need a mediator in the first place; they could have done it themselves with only the help of a booklet explaining the laws of their state. Oh, it's nice to have a little guidance to keep things on track, but it's not really all that necessary in most cases, and it costs money.
But there are always a number of cases--and the number is not small--where divorce mediation not only does not work, but leads to greater turmoil and/or inequity. If the bitterness is too huge, it affords the couple the opportunity to engage in more and more vicious exchanges to no avail, whereas dealing with lawyers at least gets them out of each others' faces. And in particular, if there's a differential of power, or any sort of abusive situation (and sometimes that's a thing the mediator cannot determine at the outset), mediation can lead to a far less equitable solution, one in which the weaker party gets a manifestly unjust settlement, despite the pretense of biparty acquiescence.
The divorce mediation situation, of course, is hardly analogous to talking with Iran. But it's an example of the limits of conversation, despite a firm belief in its power. And talking with an enemy such as Iran, where there is no common ground for agreement and no common goals, is far far worse. At stake are not just the assets and children of a married couple--which, of course, are important--but the future of millions of people, of history.
Chamberlain had an excuse, he didn't have the example of Munich before him. What's ours?
[ADDENDUM: To those who mentioned the precedent of talking with the USSR, I replied in the comments section, and am reproducing my reply here:
The USSR and the US agreed on some common goals. They didn't want to blow each other to kingdom come, for starters. The USSR was a secular government (not a religious one) interested in power in this world, not matyrdom in the next. They also cared at least somewhat about the welfare of their people, if only as a demonstration of the superiority of their system.
None of that is true of Iran. There is no common ground for a talk. If by "talk" you mean threats with a big stick to back them up, I'm all for talking. But that's not what these particular talks would be about. The talks that are proposed right now are to elicit Iran's cooperation in covering a planned retreat from Iraq, to "stabilize" the country. The only stabilization Iran is interested in there is stabilization under Iran's thumb, and they will say anything and do anything to get it. Thus talks are inherently duplicitous and counterproductive.]
Fighting the wrong war
Well, I was going to write a post something like this one. But Shrinkwrapped has done it so much better than I, so I recommend you just go there and read.
Sanity Squad's latest
Wondering about the fate of Europe? Wondering about Iraq? Wondering what the voices of Dr. Sanity, Siggy, Shrink, and myself sound like (if you haven't heard them already)?
Click here to find out.
Click here to find out.
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