This column was going to be about bad movies. Even now, when I’ve decided it’s going to be about something else, it’s hard to restrain myself: “”Ultraviolet”” is the most spectacularly terrible movie. Ever. I’m amazed that so much money and effort could be spent on a thing without anyone ever stepping back and realizing: “”Man, this is awful.””
But this column isn’t about bad movies, because last week a friend of mine woke me up with a phone call, mumbling something about a mutual friend of ours. Coming out of a dream, I was disoriented and annoyed – it was a good dream, and I had slept through the start of my 9 a.m. class. But then I woke up, and the confusion of words gradually formed into a half-complete idea: A buddy of mine wouldn’t be coming home from Iraq.
Oh.
He wasn’t the first to die there. People die all around the world, and we grimace, blink and keep going. It’s hard to say why this should be any different.
But it is different. It’s someone I knew. It reminded me that there’s still a war going on, beyond the television shows, talk radio and Web boards that sum up my interaction with it.
I’ve seen pundits on both sides of the political spectrum take shots at the government and at each other, complaining about L. Paul Bremer’s choice of words in a speech, or taking the president to task for putting up that “”Mission Accomplished”” sign. I’ve seen liberal commentators lament about the high cost of the war in dollars and bodies, and I’ve heard right-wing radio hosts castigate the media for its continual reporting on said body count.
But to me, this is simply politics. And I’m not against the Iraq war because I usually vote for Democrats, or because the majority of my friends are against it. I’m not against the war simply because it costs money and lives. Nearly everything good comes only with sacrifice.
I’m against the war because I feel like I was lied to.
Make no mistake: we went to war under the specter of a potential terrorist attack using chemical or biological weapons. It was a scary possibility. It still is. It’s a possibility that was worth going to war to prevent, especially when the president of the United States – the man with access to more information than anyone in the world – explained that such an attack was only a matter of time.
In his 2003 State of the Union address, 16 of the 20-some paragraphs specifically about Iraq focused on Saddam’s use of weapons of mass destruction, and his attempts to secure more.
“”Today, the gravest danger in the war on terror, the gravest danger facing America and the world,”” the president said, “”is outlaw regimes that seek and possess nuclear, chemical and biological weapons.””
He specifically invoked the image of Sept. 11-style attacks, made far worse with biological, chemical or nuclear weapons.
In his 2004 address, the president reiterated the links between the invasion of Iraq and that country’s weapons programs, as well as their noncompliance with U.N. weapons inspections – the proximal reason for our invasion.
(I encourage you to read the full transcripts of both of these speeches, to ensure that I’m not overstating the centrality of these points or taking them out of context.)
My government scared me into supporting a war in Iraq, and then simply shifted rhetorical gear when its original justification was found to ring hollow. It has since tried to blur terrorism, WMDs and Saddam Hussein’s regime into a single beast. But these are reasons to doubt an administration whose attitude has been “”Just trust us”” – not a reason to reject the war in Iraq.
It’s the historical parallels that scare me now. In 1979, the Soviet Union invaded Afghanistan to replace a hostile government with a more pro-Moscow regime. After quickly deposing the existing government, the Soviet army fought a long and unsuccessful war to maintain the stability of the new government.
Replace a few nouns, and you’re left with a picture that’s eerily similar to today’s Iraq.
In Afghanistan, the Soviet invasion created a generation of bitter and displaced Afghans. The power vacuum turned the country into a breeding ground for Islamic radicalism, while thousands of mujahideen swarmed to the country’s defense, and militant Islamists realized the full extent of their power. Osama bin Laden cut his teeth leading Muslim resistance to the Soviet occupation. What will our invasion of Iraq lead to?
The president’s addresses to the nation reveal his conviction that a democratic Iraq will inevitably become a shining example of freedom and liberty, and will help keep Americans safe from terrorism. But his unwavering certainty worries me. The Sept. 11 attacks were perpetrated by men who freely and willingly chose their path, not by oppressed men who were coerced into terrorism. And in their first election, Palestinians democratically chose a slate from Hamas, an unabashedly militant Islamic group.
Most importantly: I’m against the war because we are marching steadily down a path that is remarkably similar to the one that got us to where we are today. And I’m against the war because Eric died with the belief that he was making me safer, and – God bless him – I wish I could feel the same way.
As the president himself has said, there is a difference between responsible criticism that aims for success and defeatism that refuses to acknowledge anything but failure. I hope my criticism is responsible.
