|
IRAQ: Hard Hearts
By Victor Davis Hanson
The most contested "hearts and minds" of the Iraq war may belong to Americans. By Victor Davis Hanson.
Not long ago I talked to a right-wing, hard-nosed
fellow in a conservative central California town about the need to stay and
finish stabilizing democracy in Iraq and rectifying the disastrous
aftermath of 1991. He wasn’t buying. Instead he kept ranting about
the war in the “more rubble, less trouble” vein. And his anger
wasn’t only over our costs in lives and treasure. When I finally
asked him exactly why the venom over Iraq, he shouted, “I don’t
like them sons of bitches over there—any of ’em.” His was
a sort of echo of Bismarck’s oft-quoted “The whole of the
Balkans is not worth the bones of a single Pomeranian grenadier.”
There are dozens of tragic ironies in Iraq. A
Republican president’s fostering democracy only alienated his dour
realist base. Yet his idealism did not win even a faint sympathy from his
supposedly Wilsonian Democrat-ic opponents, who now sound like Bob Taft
isolationists. The fiercest critics of the brave, struggling Iraqi-elected
government remain liberal Senate Democrats, not Republicans.
The Iraqi oil fields were liberated from Russian,
French, and Baathist extortion. Subsequent skyrocketing oil prices further
enriched the Middle East—only to earn the slur “No blood for
oil.” Liberation of the downtrodden Shiites from a largely oppressive
Sunni minority won the United States only disdain from Shiite Iran and
assorted Shiites from Lebanon to the gulf—and resentment from nearby
Sunni monarchies.
President Bush stayed on after victory to offer
consensual government, unlike his father in 1991. As a reward, he reaped
criticism from his father’s critics for now attempting what they once
had so loudly advocated.
Perhaps strangest of all is the tragicomic spectacle
of Middle East “reformers” and democracy advocates. They
vehemently criticized U.S. efforts in Iraq from their autocratic
masters’ state-censored megaphones in Cairo, Riyadh, and Amman.
All that and the dreary narratives from the
battlefield help explain plummeting public support for the war at a time
when empathy for brave Iraqis is critical to the continuance of the effort.
But another, more worrisome dynamic is at work here. I would call it the
“them sons of bitches” sentiment that is usually better left
unspoken.
By any honest assessment, the great majority of Iraqis
are brave citizens who voted en masse for change, at great risk to their
safety. Kurdistan, the northern Iraqi region, is a stunning success,
belying stereotypes that Muslims can’t govern themselves peacefully,
practice consensual government, or create vibrant economies. Tribal sheiks
and clerics in Iraq hate Al-Qaeda as much as we do and suffer far greater
losses in trying to rid their country of such killers. American soldiers
testify to the friendliness and support of the Iraqi people.
The Iraqi oil fields were liberated from Russian, French, and Baathist extortion. Skyrocketing oil prices further enriched the Middle East—only to earn the slur "No blood for oil."
But that American alliance with freedom-loving Arabs
is not what is reported. Instead the public hears and sees two very
different things.
First, we are now well accustomed to the
administration talking of “freedom” and
“democracy,” and of providing an “opportunity” for
the Arab world “to embrace” liberty. Indeed, that is how the
3,000-plus Americans killed in action in Iraq and the hundreds of billions
of dollars spent so far have often been explained: a chance for something
better than the non-choice between a Saddam or an Assad on the one side and
the theocratic alternative of the Taliban or the Iranian ayatollahs on the
other.
But such a legitimate and necessary rationale depends
also on a general empathy for the Middle East. We are embarking on this new
course in the hopes that the American lives sacrificed and treasure spent
are for a friendly people who appreciate our efforts. I think that they do
and that the record of brave Iraqi reformers is worth the effort—for
the sake of our future security and so that we might adopt a new moral
posture that respects Arab self-determination.
But, again, most Americans now don’t think it is
worth it—not just because of the cost we pay but because of what we
get in return. Turn on the television and the reporting is all hate: a
Middle Eastern Muslim is blowing up someone in Israel, shooting a rocket
from Gaza, chanting death to America in Beirut, stoning an adulterer in
Tehran, losing a hand for thievery in Saudi Arabia, threatening to take
back Spain, gassing someone in Iraq, or promising to wipe out Israel. An
unhinged, secular Muammar Gadhafi rants; a decrepit Saudi royal lectures; a
wild-eyed Lebanese cleric threatens—whatever the country, whatever
the political ideology, the U.S. television viewer draws the same
conclusion: we are always blamed for their self-inflicted misery.
Fostering democracy in Iraq is called imperialism. But
then so is the opposite, backing a strongman in Pakistan or Egypt. Billions
in aid sent to Egypt, Jordan, and Palestine goes unmentioned or is
considered too paltry. Millions of Muslims saved in Afghanistan, Bosnia,
Indonesia, Kosovo, Kuwait, and Somalia means nothing. One Koran wrongly
said to be flushed is everything.
A sense of imbalance is everywhere. Imams call Jews
“pigs and apes.” The pope is threatened for his dry recitation
of history. Cartoonists, novelists, filmmakers, and opera producers are all
promised death or beheading, while the worst sort of racist, anti-Semitic,
and anti-Christian hatred is broadcast and published in state-run Arab
media.
A divisive and costly war continues, in part to give Arab Muslims the freedom the West takes for granted. At precisely the same time, the public is becoming increasingly tired of Middle Eastern madness.
Worse follows. Just when one surmises from all this
that the Arab Muslim world despises the United States, the American public
is exasperated that, in fact, it really doesn’t—at least, in
the sense that Muslims from the Middle East clamor to enter the United
States. Everything Western—from iPods to the Internet to cell
phones—spreads like wildfire in the Arab world. Family members of
those in the Assad government, in the Shiite militias in Lebanon, in the
Pakistani dictatorship, and in the Iranian theocracy live in safety and
security in the land of the Great Satan, from Washington to Michigan.
Yet the Muslim community in the United States, at
least if defined by its self-appointed collective leadership, is mostly
heard and seen decrying “Islamophobia” inside America, suing on
allegations of discrimination, and damning the effort in Iraq. Rarely are
fury and anger voiced at the illiberal regimes that drove Arabs out. Even
rarer is some sort of gratitude for the liberal regime that welcomed them
in; at least that is the impression imparted to Americans by their media,
which provide them with sound bites and live video streams in lieu of
travel to and study of the Middle East.
As a result, the U.S. voter is tired and saturated
with negative imagery. Public opinion polls are notoriously fickle, but
most show a sharp increase in unfavorable views of Muslims in general. A
2006 Washington Post poll suggested that nearly half of all Americans had a
negative view of Muslims—far higher even than was found shortly after
the September 11 attacks. The Council on American-Islamic Relations claims
that one in four Americans surveyed said Islam was a religion of hatred and
violence and held extreme anti-Muslim views. Other, less-partisan surveys
agree that one in three Americans believe that Islam encourages violence.
Various other surveys show that only about 20 percent of Americans are in
sympathy with the Palestinians. Egypt alone of the major Arab countries
rates a favorable impression; most others—Iraq, Syria, Saudi
Arabia—evoke high levels of American negativity.
Most Americans now don’t think our Middle East venture is worth it—not just because of the cost we pay but because of what we get in return.
Such popular sentiments, to the extent they are ever
voiced openly, are, of course, attributed to “intolerance” and
“prejudice.” But the true catalysts are the endemic violence
and hypocrisy that appear nightly on millions of television screens. When
the Left says of the war that “it isn’t worth it,” that
message resonates to the American public as “they aren’t worth
it.” Voters may not particularly like Harry Reid, but in frustration
at the violence, they sense now that, just like them, he also doesn’t
like a vague somebody over there.
So here we are in our eleventh hour. A divisive and
costly war continues, in part to give Arab Muslims the freedom the West
takes for granted; at precisely the same time, the public is becoming
increasingly tired of Middle Eastern madness. In short, America believes
that the entire region is not worth the bones of a single Marine.
To counteract this, we need more clarity both here and
abroad. First, the administration must articulate how its idealism is stark
realism as well. Americans daily must be reminded that consensual
government in Iraq—not just plebiscites—is in our long-term
strategic interest. Second, we should hear far more of Iraqi cooperation
and joint operations, both military and civilian, that in fact do
characterize this war and reveal an Arab desire to be free of the past. And
third, many more long-suffering members of the Iraqi government need to
express some appreciation for the U.S. sacrifice—and express such
gratitude to the American people directly.
We worry rightly about anti-Americanism and winning
over the people of Iraq. But the greater problem, at least as we now
witness it in the Senate and House, is winning back those at home.
Seeing more of the voter’s purple finger, and
less of the shaking fist, is the key to regaining the hearts and minds of
Americans—who in the end alone can win or lose this war.
This essay appeared in National
Review Online on April 27, 2007. © 2007 by
National Review Online (www.nationalreview.com). Reprinted by permission.
Available from the Hoover Press is Uncertain Shield:
The U.S. Intelligence System in the Throes of Reform, by Richard A. Posner.
To order, call 800.935.2882 or visit www.hooverpress.org.
Victor Davis Hanson is the Martin and Illie Anderson Senior Fellow at the Hoover Institution. He is a classicist and an expert on the history of war. A regular contributor to National Review Online and many other national and international publications, he has written or edited sixteen books, including theNew York Times bestseller Carnage and Culture: Landmark Battles in the Rise of Western Power. His most recent book is A War Like No Other: How the Athenians and Spartans Fought the Peloponnesian War. He was awarded a National Humanities Medal by President Bush in 2007.
|