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In
the debate over the Iraq war, a new-minted fragment of conventional
wisdom has fixed itself in the minds of mainstream politicians and
commentators. Whether or not it was right to go to war, we are told on
all sides, the United States must now succeed in achieving its aims. In
the words of John Kerry, "Americans differ about whether and how we
should have gone to war, but it would be unthinkable now for us to
retreat in disarray and leave behind a society deep in strife and
dominated by radicals." Or as Senator Richard Lugar has said, "We are
in Iraq and so we're going to have to bring stability." Or, as Senator
Joseph Biden, among so many others, has said, as if to put an end to
all discussion, "Failure is not an option."
The
argument is an irritating one for those of us who opposed the war,
suggesting, as it does, that we must now sign up for the project ("stay
the course") because the very mistake we warned against was made. But
the problems are more serious than annoyance. Of course, no one wants
to see anarchy or repression in Iraq or any other country. But what can
it mean to say that failure is not an option? Has the decision to go to
war exhausted our powers of thought and will? Must we surrender now to
fate? "Failure" is in truth never an "option." The exercise of an
option is a voluntary act; but failure is forced upon you by events. It
is what happens when your options run out. To rule out failure is not a
policy but a wish-and a wish, indeed, for omnipotence. Yet no one, not
even the world's sole superpower, is omnipotent. To imagine otherwise
is to set yourself up for a fall even bigger than the failure you
imagine you are ruling out.
And
so decisions must still be made. It's true that we opponents of the war
cannot simply say (as we might like to do), "Please roll history back
to March of 2003, and make your disastrous war unhappen." It's also
true that when the United States overthrew the Iraqi government it took
on new responsibilities. The strongest argument for staying in Iraq is
that the United States, having taken over the country, owes its people
a better future. But acknowledgment of such a responsibility is only
the beginning, not the end, of an argument.
To
meet a responsibility to someone, you must have something on offer that
they want. Certainly, the people of Iraq want electricity, running
water and other material assistance. The United States should supply
it. Perhaps-it's hard to find out-they also want democracy. But
democracy cannot be shipped to Iraq on a tanker or a C-5A. It is a
homegrown construct, which must flow from the will of the people
involved. The expression of that will is, in fact, what democracy is.
But
today the United States seeks to impose a government on Iraq in the
teeth of an increasingly powerful popular opposition. The result of
this policy can be seen in the shameful attacks from the air on the
cordoned-off city of Falluja, causing hundreds of casualties. The more
the United States tries to force what it insists on calling democracy
on Iraq, the more the people of Iraq will hate the United States, and
even, perhaps, the name of democracy. There is no definition of an
obligation that includes attacking the supposed beneficiaries' cities
with F-16s and AC-130 gunships.
President
Bush commented recently of the Iraqis, "It's going to take a while for
them to understand what freedom is all about." Hachim Hassani, a
representative of the Iraqi Islamic Party, a leading Sunni Muslim group
on the so-called Governing Council, might have been answering him when
he commented to the Los Angeles Times, "The Iraqi people now equate
democracy with bloodshed."
Under
these circumstances, staying the course cannot benefit Iraq. On the
contrary, each additional day that American troops continue to fight in
Iraq can only compound the eventual price of the original
mistake-costing more lives, American and Iraqi, disorganizing and
pulverizing the society, and reducing, not fostering, any chances for a
better future for the country.
There
are still many things that the United States can do for the people of
Iraq. Continued economic assistance is one. Another is to help
international organizations assist (but only to whatever degree is
wanted by the local people) in the transition to a new political order.
But all combat operations should cease immediately and then, on a fixed
and announced timetable, the American forces should withdraw from the
country. In short, the United States, working with others, should give
Iraqis their best chance to succeed in their own efforts to create
their own future.
According
to the most recent Times/CBS poll, the public, by a margin of 48
percent to 46 percent, has decided, with no encouragement from either
of the two major-party presidential candidates or from most media
commentators, that the war was a mistake. Forty-six percent have
decided that the American troops should be withdrawn. They are right.
The United States should never have invaded Iraq. Now it should leave.
Jonathan
Schell is the Harold Willens Peace Fellow at The Nation Institute, he
is the author, most recently, of The Unconquerable World: Power, Nonviolence, and the
Will of the People (Metropolitan).
The
Nation asked a range of writers, both regular and new contributors to
the magazine, for their ideas on America's way out of Iraq. Read more here.
Copyright © 2004 The
Nation
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