2003 March 17

"The most powerful narcotic invented by humankind is war"

I very nearly went to Washington this weekend with Matt and Brandi and a friend of theirs to go to the peace march, which surprised the crap out of me. I've never even imagined myself at a protest or demonstration of any kind before, and suddenly I was planning to take a whole weekend to go to Washington. But when the logistics were worked out, they all decided they wanted to leave early Friday to avoid the traffic, and I couldn't manage a whole day off work. I'm standing up to be counted here instead. It seems I may be running out of time to do so, and I do want to get this up before they let loose the dogs of war.

[An aside for anyone who may read this, who doesn't know me. I'm a Canadian who's been living in the United States for ten years now. My taxes go directly to support the US military, but I don't get to vote; I am living here by choice, because I like this country, and I'm personally sharing in any risk of terrorism borne by the American public, but I didn't grow up here; this is why I wobble perhaps inconsistently between the first person and the third in talking about the United States.]

No legitimate cause

The U.S. government has not established any legitimate cause for this war. No evidence of an ongoing nuclear programme has held up. No evidence of a significant relationship between Iraq and al Qaeda has been forthcoming -- certainly nothing more significant than the Saudi--al Qaeda connection, which has not been regarded as a sufficient cause for hostility. There is absolutely no evidence I am aware of of a responsible connection between Iraq and September 11th, and the administration's continuing claims otherwise looks to me like the Big Lie of the war. Peter Beinart in the New Republic puts it this way:

But there's a third reason for the world's radical distrust of America's war effort, and, for this, the Bush administration has only itself to blame: It keeps saying things about Iraq that turn out not to be true.

The administration argues that we must go to war against Iraq not because it is an imminent threat (the way, say, North Korea is), but to prevent it from becoming a threat in the future. But that is an unacceptable argument, because there are no crystal balls -- there is no way to present any evidence that the French are wrong, that continued sanctions and inspection regime cannot work. This matters, because if hypothetical future dangers are allowed as legitimate reasons for war, how do you then argue against, say, something like Indonesia attempting to reconquer East Timor on "preventative" grounds? Or if the United States attempts to claim the unique right to know the future, you can rightly expect the rest of the world to call bullshit.

The closest thing to a legitimate reason for needing this war, now, is the one the Economist points out. The 1990 Gulf War never really ended; the current containment has been murderous and cruel in its own way, is expensive, and ought not to be imagined to be any kind of real solution to the problem. To which the only response is, true enough. But is continued containment really more cruel or unthinkable than war? We must bomb the village to save it.

It will make the problem worse

The simple fact that the war is unjustified ought to be enough of a reason not to do it, but as Talleyrand said, "It is worse than a crime; it is a mistake." Some hawks claim the humanitarian grounds that the war will be justified once the United States rebuilds and democratises Iraq. In other words, they propose the United States take up the White Man's Burden. This has almost never ended well. One exception was the MacArthur regency of Japan, but, as John Dower points out, many important factors that allowed the Japanese reconstruction to work will not apply in Iraq. In the Atlantic Monthly, James Fallows asks:

Going to war with Iraq would mean shouldering all the responsibilities of an occupying power the moment victory was achieved. These would include running the economy, keeping domestic peace, and protecting Iraq's borders -- and doing it all for years, or perhaps decades. Are we ready for this long-term relationship?
Furthermore, those tens of thousands of American administrators and military police will have to be fanned out across the country, indefensibly, in the Arab heartland. How long before the religious warriors, the Afghan Arabs, are back in the country taking rifle shots? How many deaths is America prepared to accept in the noble cause of rebuilding the country? It only took a few before they were chased out of Somalia; in Afghanistan they've avoided the problem by fortifying a few square miles of Kabul and leaving the rest of the country to the warlords. I don't see any sign of the American public being psychologically prepared to shoulder that burden; instead we have the adminstration refusing to provide estimates for the cost and duration of the war, and Wolfowitz testifying to Congress to denigrate the estimates of the Army Chief of Staff for being inconvenient.

In other words, if the United States shows some determination to stay, they'll be facing a no-doubt terrorist insurgency, and the likelihood of being dragged farther into a dirty war to stop it. If they turn around and pull out, they'll leave behind an anarchy for which the world will hold them responsible (because they would be), and the likelihood of a new, younger Saddam taking over in his place. Lovely.

(Then there's the risk of destabilizing nuclear Pakistan -- maybe not large, but maybe not negligible either.)

The U.S. has gone mad

The final reason I oppose this war is a bit more personal and subjective. I hope that those who already agree with me, at least, will know what I'm talking about, but I'm not sure if I'm capable of formulating it in a way that will persuade anyone who doesn't. But I'm going to give it a try anyway.

I fucking hate what it's doing to the United States.

We have the ghoulish spectacle of the dead of September 11th being used to justify everything from invasions of uninvolved countries to attacks on civil liberties. We have a hodgepodge bill of surveillance powers with what can only be called the Orwellian name "USA PATRIOT Act". We have people arguing that official torture might be acceptable. We have Americans talking as if the French and the Germans and much of the rest of Europe are the enemy. We have freedom fries, for fuck's sake.

In an interview with Bill Moyers, Chris Hedges, a former war correspondent and author of War is a Force That Gives Us Meaning, comments:

I'm not opposed to the use of force. But force always has to be a last resort because those who wield force become tainted or contaminated by it. And one of the things that most frightens me about the moment our nation is in now, is that we've lost touch with the notion of what war is.
It's become too easy for the United States -- all the thrill, and none of the pain. One thing that has made American hegemony more benevolent than any other in history has been American reluctance to use force, and I worry that that is fading.

The title of this essay comes from Hedges. War is a powerful drug -- I think it is well to be careful of it.

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