About two months back, I was in Annapolis for a marriage ceremony. The Groom -- my cousin and a graduate of the US Coast Guard Academy -- had arranged a pre-wedding barbecue at a park on the north side of Chesapeake Bay.
The party was already in full swing when I arrived. We had a magnificent view of the US Naval Academy, in sight as a stately array of buildings and playing fields across the water. There were lots of kids running around, lots of guests savoring chicken wings and roast pork, and lots of my cousin’s buddies taking good advantage of the keg.
There were also several family members that I hadn’t seen in years, and new family members to meet.
My mother was eager to introduce me to the Bride’s sister. "L is in the service and just got back from Iraq."
The initial chit chat with L was understandably short. When the topic of having been in Iraq came up, I chose a tone that I hope would indicate my informed opposition to the war without being hostile or overly confrontational... Call it chipper engagement.
"How’s that going?"I asked, emphasizing "that."
She said she wished Congress would hurry up and "make up its mind" about how to settle the funding issue.
I was still meeting and greeting, so it wasn’t the proper moment to pursue the topic. But L’s direct, respectful, and well-spoken manner made it clear a longer talk would be welcome if the opportunity arose.
I spent some time with my Uncle (also the Groom’s uncle) an Army veteran who has been sending out Letter-to-the-Editor-styled rants to family and friends, venting dismay about the war and anger toward Bush. He got right into politics. He knows he’s preaching to the choir when he talks to me about this stuff, or about his favorite topic of all... the lunacy of religious fundamentalists. His daughters had heard it enough already. They left, eyes rolling. I shared my standard line: "Bush is painting this country into a corner, and it’s time for someone to take the paintbrush away."
Other folks at the barbecue made a point of telling me that "L is really conservative." They weren’t using the word "really" to mean "true blue," but as an intensifier, knowing quite well that my views would rank as really liberal.
Finally, L and I were sitting at the same picnic bench, facing the luscious of expanse of bay, the late afternoon sky, and the glass, stone and steel of the Naval Academy.
L, a commander, served her most recent tour as a hospital administrator in Baghdad. Now that we had an opportunity to have a serious conversation, I asked if she thought the military had enough resources for the "surge" to succeed. She described the shortcoming of HUMVVS (all too often, they’re like death traps) and Rhinos (safe, but too big for many roads), and Rumsfeld’s term as Secretary of Defense (a legacy of unhelpful "meddling") .
L wasn’t optimistic about the surge. She had little confidence that enough Iraqis were doing their part to turn things around, but she was convinced that US forces needed to stay. She fully subscribed to the line, "If we don’t stop them there, they’re coming here."
She recounted an episode at the height of Operation Together Forward that struck her as emblematic. Like the 2007 surge, the strategy of the 2006 prequel was to reduce sectarian violence in Baghdad. Its initial focus was preventing the locals from setting up unauthorized checkpoints. (It backfired right off the bat. Ad hoc Shia checkpoints came down fairly quickly at President Maliki’s behest, though the official replacements were not ready to stand up. The result was to create an open door for Sunni marauders who wreaked havoc in Shia neighborhoods.)
L’s story began with the disappearance and presumed kidnaping of an American soldier. In response, US troops imposed a harsh intensification of their own checkpoint, patrol, and search activity. That, in turn, prompted huge protests from the Shia community. Under pressure, Maliki persuaded the Americans to take down the checkpoints. Emboldened by US acquiescence to their demands, the Shia turned out for a massive victory celebration, which L witnessed. The crowd’s favorite chant translated to "Next we will have our Friday prayers in America!"
L believed she was hearing a mortal threat voiced by a hostile civilization, and not just the passionate self-puffery of a few neighborhood hot heads.
If my Uncle had been sitting with us he might have said something like, "Bush is fighting them over there so they’ll hate us everywhere. Sounds like it’s working." But L and I had been left alone.
She listened as I explained my view that the war and its escalation is counterproductive to US interests. Lesson 1 of International Relations 101 is that people will fight very hard to defend their homes. Just as so many Americans – including many Democrats – rallied around Bush immediately after the 9/11 attacks, most Iraqis – including victims of Saddam Hussein – have embraced local leaders who denounce the Americans as occupiers and predators. The successful conduct of modern geopolitics, characterized by long, drawn out ideological struggles, depends far more on drawing allies into durable institutional frameworks than on vanquishing opponents in wars of position (A good counterinsurgency strategy involves a similar dynamic).
The view across the water allowed for a grand gesture. The reason we have these academies, I said, is to empower the officers of our governments and our military with the knowledge of science and the wisdom of history. Yet Bush and the people close to him were repeating the classic errors of hubris, over-extension, and groupthink, while ignoring the warnings and advice of experienced experts. To continue enabling Bush would only allow him to compound his errors. His worst mistakes might still be ahead.
L argued that Democrats and Republicans had authorized the war using the same information. She seemed surprisingly unfamiliar with the accumulating revelations about the extent to which members of the Administration had cooked the intelligence estimates.
Having said my piece, I didn’t push the argument much harder. It was clear that neither of us was likely to change our conclusions about what should be done.
So I asked L how she thought other people in the military would react if Congress somehow took control and mandated a relatively quick withdrawal of US forces, putting aside the long-term strategic implications. She predicted three types: Younger, non-career service members would say, "Yeehaw! Let’s get out of here!" Top brass would be concerned about the impact on their careers, and would focus on CYA measures. Mid-level career officers like herself would be ambivalent, and not just for political reasons. They also want to go home, but are not so eager, anticipating that those Iraqis who have been working closely with the Americans would be left alone to face bitter reprisal.
When the conversation had ended, it struck me that the substance deserved a record, at least as a snapshot of the views of an honorable public servant who has put her life on the line in support of an arguably dishonorable war. Soon after the wedding I wrote down some notes and started a draft, letting it languish as other projects intervened.
It was interesting that people at the party kept their distance from the conversation, even though a few expressed a lot of interest after the fact in how it went. I don’t have a good explanation for that. If they had been listening in, however, I’m pretty sure about something L would have wanted them to hear, whether they oppose Bush or not.
Throughout the conversation, L stressed the long-term medical issues facing military families. A major reevaluation of premium fees was underway, and she wasn’t happy with the way things were going. Given that people are reenlisting or being subjected to extended tours under exceptionally difficult circumstances, a key part of the deal is the promise of affordable, high quality health care for those who come back alive. L thought some readjustment in premiums was appropriate, since they apparently haven’t been raised for some time, but she believed that the renegotiation process was at risk of being captured by a cohort of officers who were predisposed to be stingy. The implicit message seems to be that the military budget planners may be trying to hedge against potential shortfalls by extracting unduly fat insurance premiums from the generation that is serving in Iraq.
I left the conversation with even greater conviction that we are facing a terrible emergency. The Bush Administration’s pursuit of this catastrophic war is not only undermining our political standing in the world, it’s depleting our military. I emphasize "our" because however limited their understanding of history and culture may be, and whatever susceptibility to right wing bamboozling they might have, these are folks who have it in their bones to fight on our behalf protect our home. They’ll do what they’re told, and it’s our responsibility to make sure that they receive the right orders for the right reasons.
I look forward to electing Democrats who will ensure that our policies match our interests, but I’ve also reached the conclusion that my old friends in the peace movement are misguided when they oppose ROTC and military recruitment on high school and college campuses. Sure, we need to protect kids against dishonest and abusive recruiters, but not by subverting the system’s ability to draw from the broadest possible base of high quality candidates.
The day is approaching when the executive powers of this government will be restored to sane, responsible hands. It’s in our interest that every element of that power attain full vitality, even as we undertake to wage peace as a priority instead of war. Some of us are willing do the work necessary to speak truth to power, others are willing to shoot guns at the behest of that power. We have very different parts to play in this big country, but we can’t lose sight of the fact that we’re on the same team.