The new "surge" strategy in Iraq, led by General David Petreaus, has been heavily marketed as an example of the U.S. military’s application of the "lessons of history" from previous counterinsurgencies to Iraq, foremost among them the need to win the population over from insurgents through cultivating human relationships, addressing popular grievances and providing security.
Once again, in reporting to Congress, General Petreaus and Ambassador Crocker highlighted “progress” in Iraq without discussing the price Iraqis are paying for the war and occupation of their country.
When General David Petraeus and U.S. Ambassador to Iraq Ryan Crocker testify before a Senate Committee this week, it’s likely they’ll point to "security improvements" and a "drop in violence" over the last year.
Although Iraq and the economy tend to dominate the headlines, Iran is never far from the news cycle – or from the speeches of the leading U.S. presidential candidates. In a recent trip to the Middle East, John McCain reiterated his concern about “Iranian influence and assistance to Hezbollah as well as Iranian pursuit of nuclear weapons.” Iran also received the attention of President Bush when he insisted last month that Iran is developing nuclear weapons in order to “destroy people.” Implausible and unsubstantiated as this claim might be, it represents a popular thread of argument in the Iran debate.
The U.S. military has come up with some pretty good acronyms in the past, such as SNAFU (situation normal all f’d up) and FUBAR (f’d up beyond all repair). I recommend that the Pentagon consider inaugurating a new acronym for 2008: OOPS. It stands for outrageously, offensively, and profoundly stupid.
Five years ago the United States attacked and occupied Iraq. It has lost militarily, politically and morally. The end of the war may be in sight. But the consequences will endure, as will the deep-seated impulse among America’s leaders for global intervention without constraint.
Former U.S. Marine Corps machine gunner John Michael Turner leaned over the microphone, his voice choking with emotion, the words barely forcing themselves out, the tears barely held back.
Five years of combat in Iraq started in earnest on March 19, 2003.
I admit it with some embarrassment; in my daily perusal of the New York Times I sometimes skip over the articles on Iraq. The ones that say 14 people were blown up in this market, or two soldiers were wounded while on neighborhood patrol. I have taught courses in human rights. I have taught courses in war and peace. I have taught courses on politics in the Middle East, assigning the writings of Edward Said, confident that the students must know this, filled with anticipatory pleasure that I will reread his eloquent words again.