In politics, despite growing up in the age of demonstrations against US policy on Cuba and Vietnam, I had no illusions about the Soviet empire and no sympathy for Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament–style unilateralism. It would not have needed the D–Day anniversary or the death of Ronald Reagan to remind me how many west and east–central Europeans owe their freedom to the sacrifice of blood and treasure by America.
Of course, US post–second world war foreign policy has been open to criticism – most of its interventions in Central and South America, as well as its support for dubious causes and regimes in tactical pursuit of US global objectives elsewhere, have shown that any commitment to “democracy” is honoured as much in the breach as in the observance.
But for the most part, and certainly to the end of the cold war, the US tried to act in concert with allies anywhere outside its direct sphere of influence. One of the key differentiating characteristics of the Iraq war has been the chosen divisiveness of its original course. The coalition of the willing (or coerced) has gone out of its way to abuse the unwilling. Doubters (witness Hans Blix) have been demonised and whole nations (witness the French) accused of cowardice, treachery and worse.
One of the reasons why Iraq has become such a polarising issue has been the selective amnesia of the United States (and United Kingdom) government. Its long–term support for Saddam Hussein – through the decades of expunging political opposition, gassing his own citizens, invading Iran – has been airbrushed from history. This, even though the misery of Iraqis after 1991 was attributable at least as much to ruthlessly applied United Nations (but US–led) sanctions as to Saddam’s iniquity.
Meanwhile, the orchestrated furore over weapons of mass destruction (WMD) was dismaying in its dishonesty. If the Israeli air force could wipe out any potential Iraqi nuclear threat with a single sortie (as in Osirak in 1981), and if the Israeli chief of staff could say that he lost not a minute’s sleep worrying about Iraq as a source of danger, why should the world’s only superpower publicly speculate about mushroom clouds emanating from Iraq? The baying chorus of certainty about Iraqi WMD was rooted in deception and misrepresentation.
The invasion of Iraq – foolish, wicked or counter–productive, according to one’s viewpoint – will eventually be resolved, but it is likely to leave an enduring legacy of lingering anti–Americanism in large parts of Europe and the Muslim world. The image of America will be fixed as one of a rampant, unaccountable superpower listening to no outside voices as it pursues its own agenda.
Even more damaging for the United States, and for those who most admire it, is the possibility that the backlash against the Iraq adventure will make the US more hesitant about interventions that it might really need to make in the future. In addition, the impact of domestic legislation (like the Patriot Act) as repressive as anything since the early days of the post–war communist scare, intensifies concern that the cause of democracy may have suffered its biggest setback in America itself.
At one level, America’s institutional self–balancing mechanisms seem already to be exerting themselves. The official 9/11 commission has exposed the incompetence and complacency that allowed the conspirators to accomplish their ghastly mission, despite repeated and explicit warnings of what they were planning. David Kay, of the Iraq Survey Group, pressed the administration to acknowledge its WMD errors, even to the point of contemplating that the entire affair was an elaborate Iranian intelligence sting. It was Sixty Minutes and the Washington Post that illuminated the horrors of Abu Ghraib (not the many vocal media critics of US policy overseas). It was a US army general, not the Red Cross, who most completely catalogued the torture regime tolerated by his senior officers.
But even if the Bush administration rediscovers the virtues of diplomacy, can it learn the lessons of Iraq? For all the denunciations of “rogue elements” betraying the honour of US arms, Bagram and Guantanamo will remain standing after Abu Ghraib has been flattened. The hundreds of stored digital photographs, showing such consistent patterns of abusive behaviour, surely demonstrate official tolerance – or sanction – for what happened.
Few, inside or outside Iraq, can regret the deposing of Saddam. But even the best of causes require legal sanction, international consent, a clear balance of advantage and orderly implementation if they are to achieve their optimum effect. It is a bitter irony of the invasion that Iraq has now become – as it never was before – a fruitful recruiting ground for al–Qaida. Worse still would be if it left America resentful, frustrated, mistrusted and divided – unsure if it is a society that endorses torture or abhors it. That is the legacy I fear.
Best wishes,
http://www.opendemocracy.net/democracy-letterstoamericans/article_2057.jsp