Our very last troops in Iraq have left for home. And, of course, Iraq is no longer ruled by the Ba’athist tyrant who murdered so many people both within his own country and in Iran that he should be counted in the bloody second circle right behind Hitler and Stalin, Mao and Pol Pot. History will record George Bush’s daring in confronting this aggressor-dictator (comparing this daring to the pusillanimity of his father whose secretary of state, James Baker, was actually a fan of Saddam Hussein). And it should also reward his foresight in grasping that Hussein’s downfall alone would not be enough to turn the country into a civilized place. Of course, dreadful errors were made in pursuing the war, some of them through vainglory, others in trying to meet the objections of the demagogic Democratic opposition at home. Much of this opposition was actually ugly, and there was a certain smug satisfaction in various American environs when the bloody habits of armed gangsters, both Shia and Sunni, took over the supposedly liberated streets and neighborhoods, mosques and marketplaces of the country. Still, as a Democrat of a certain critical sort, it shamed me that the party itself appeared to be quite content to leave the old tyranny in place. I don’t really know how genuine the Republicans are in their vague intentions to rid some countries of their tyrannous rulers. It’s altogether clear, however, that Democrats no longer give a damn. What the odds are of Americans (or anyone else, for that matter) midwifing a truly civil society in the Arab world is anybody’s guess. Thus far … well, thus far the odds are long, very long. The Arabs themselves have never tried. Can they? Who knows? But the Democrats want it both ways: Everybody can have democracy. But it’s too dangerous for us to help.
President Obama substituted his enthusiasm for the war in Afghanistan for the war in Iraq already during the campaign, and he did so to show that he, too, could fight … or rather that he, too, could send our armed men and women into harm’s way for some good end. But turning Afghanistan into the good war was just about an impossible task, not because the Afghanis deserve rule by religious fanatics or by drug lords but because the country itself is hardly a country, as Rory Stewart has shown in his prize-winning book, The Places In Between. You can learn from this at once lyrical but factual narrative of the grim realities on the ground, of the roguish charm of many of its people, of the hold of the past on the future, a tenacious and unrelenting hold. This is, alas, one of those places that may in some vague way, maybe through its intellectuals, aspire to nationhood, but it is doomed to ungovernability.
Richard Holbrooke was posted to the country … which also meant to be posted to Pakistan. He was one of those dazzlingly genius individuals who could somehow bridge vaunting ideas and different worlds while making his associates feel they were doing something both dreamy and very practical. But he got little support from Obama, who simply couldn’t deal with an independent diplomat who knew both the limits and possibilities of diplomacy. More than that: Despite the president’s encomium at the Washington memorial service for Holbrooke, he just didn’t like Holbrooke, who was too smart, had too many ideas, and very much wanted to be heard. Holbrooke’s ambitions offended Denis McDonough and James Jones, I suppose on behalf of the president who, though not very knowledgeable about so many matters in international affairs, likes to come up with new ideas of his own. It was left to Hillary Clinton to rescue Dick from dismissal, a very honorable act. And then he died.