The other day, as we reached the first anniversary of the President’s announcement of his “surge” strategy in Iraq, I found myself thinking about the earliest paid book-editing work I ever did. An editor at a San Francisco textbook publisher hired me to “doctor” god-awful texts. Each of these “books” was not only in a woeful state of disrepair, but essentially DOA. I was nonetheless supposed to do a lively rewrite of the mess, after which another technician simplified the language to “grade level,” and a designer provided a flashy layout. Zap! Pow! Kebang!
Back then, in the early 1970s, an image of what I was doing formed in my mind–and suddenly came back to me this week. I used to describe it this way:
Our little band of technicians would be ushered into a room at the publisher’s in which there would be nothing but a gurney with a corpse on it in a state of advanced decomposition. The publisher’s representative would then issue a simple request: Make it look like it can get up and walk away.
And the truth was, that corpse of a book would be almost lifelike when we were done with it, but one thing was guaranteed: it would never actually get up and walk away.
That was a minor matter of bad books that no one wanted to call by their rightful name. But the image came to mind again more than three decades later because it’s hard not to think of America’s Iraq in similar terms. Only this week, Abdul Qadir, the Iraqi defense minister, announced that “his nation would not be able to take full responsibility for its internal security until 2012, nor be able on its own to defend Iraq’s borders from external threat until at least 2018.” Pentagon officials, reported Thom Shanker of the New York Times, expressed no surprise at these dismal post-surge projections.
According to this guesstimate, the US military occupation of Iraq won’t end for, minimally, another ten years, something President Bush confirmed on his recent Mideast jaunt, saying that the U.S. stay “could easily be” another decade or more.
Folks, our media may be filled with discussions about just how “successful” the President’s surge plan has been, but really, Iraq is the corpse in the room.
“Success” as a Mantra
Last January, the President called in his technicians, Gen. David Petraeus, surge commander in Iraq, and new US ambassador to that country Ryan Crocker. Think of them as “the undertakers,” since, applying their skills, they’ve managed to give that Iraqi corpse the faint glow of life. The President asked for an Iraq that would look like it could get up and walk away–and the last year of “success,” widely trumpeted in the media, has been the result. But just think about what that defense minister promised: by 2018, the country will–supposedly–be able to control its own borders, one of the more basic acts of a sovereign state. That, by itself, tells you much of what you need to be know.
In order to achieve an image of lifelike quiescence in Iraq, the general and ambassador did have to give up the ghost on a number of previous Bush Administration passions. Rebellious al-Anbar Province was essentially turned over to members of the community (many of whom had, even according to the Department of Defense, been fighting Americans until recently). They were then armed and paid by the US not to make too much trouble. In the Iraqi capital, the surging American military looked the other way as, in the first half of 2007, the Shiite “cleansing” of mixed Baghdad neighborhoods reached new heights, transforming it into a largely Shiite city. This may have been the real “surge” and, if you look at new maps of the ethnic makeup of the capital, you can see the startling results–from which a certain quiescence followed. Powerful Shiite cleric Muqtada al-Sadr, longtime opponent of the Bush Administration, called a “truce” and went about purging and reorganizing his powerful militia, the Mahdi Army. In exchange, the US gave up, at least temporarily, its goal of wresting control of some of those neighborhoods from the Sadrists.