Pete Yost and Mike Feinsilber from the Associated Press wrote one of the many obituaries today on Robert S. McNamara.
Read the whole thing here via Talking Points Memo.
Of course, encapsulating the life and legacy of such a complex and controversial figure like McNamara is a difficult assignment--although in the case of the former defense secretary, who died yesterday at the age of 93, we can hardly claim that his death caught us off guard.
But any obituary on McNamara must find a way to discuss his role in the Vietnam War. And any attempt to situate that period in American history would have to view it in the context of America after the Iraq invasion.
Indeed, one of McNamara’s lessons from the film Fog of War about the need to persuade allies, was interpreted as an oblique slam on our Coalition of the Willing in Iraq.
Or so one might think.
The folks at the Associated Press, however, decided to paint with broad strokes when it came to Vietnam, and their first sin is one of omission:
McNamara was fundamentally associated with the Vietnam War, "McNamara's war," the country's most disastrous foreign venture, the only American war to end in abject withdrawal.
So Vietnam was America’s most disastrous foreign venture? One could certainly make the argument, but the question is hardly settled in the wake of the Iraq invasion.
We could forgive the AP writers for condensing their lede, but the simple tweak of phrasing to say, "one of the country’s most disastrous foreign ventures," would have allowed enough room for historical debate.
But the biggest sin of the AP piece is framing. How was Vietnam the country’s most disastrous foreign venture? Well, it was because the war resulted in "abject withdrawal," and the only war in American history to do so.
Disregarding the 58,000 American lives lost, the countless Vietnamese lives lost, the collapse of Cambodia and the rise of the Khmer Rouge, and the near irreparable division in American political life, the AP authors suggest sticking it out in Vietnam another 10 years might have mitigated our policy failure.
And of course, we can only assume that the AP is implying that any other war, such as an ongoing war in Mesopotamia, that has been stalled in a political deadlock and guerilla war for a number of years, would also be a failure if it resulted in an American withdrawal.
Since the deaths of public figures are often time for historical reflection, we should take a moment to recall that the four years between the end of the Johnson administration and the end of the first Nixon administration was a period of escalation in the war that doubled the count of American fatalities. The political settlement that Nixon and Kissinger achieved after years of bombing were little different than what was on the table when Johnson was leaving office. Moreover, the war did not really end until two years after Kissinger announced a cease-fire and claimed a Nobel Peace Prize.
So, the "abject withdrawal" that was the hallmark of American failure came 7 years after the final parameters of American engagement were already solidifying.
How many more years should the US stick it out in Iraq before we accept the terms of our withdrawal--at least in ways favorable to the Associated Press?
Or perhaps, the wise men who wrote this McNamara obit should reconsider their interpretation of American history and even their definitions of failure and success. Doing that, they may realize what many others have concluded: prolonging a war doesn’t always guarantee a success and the failure in waging ill-conceived wars is starting them in the first place.
Update: Posting after hours is always rough for generating a discussion, so in the late-night spirit of good humor, I thought I'd let Dana Carvey remind us of the most important lesson of Vietnam: "Stay out of Vietnam."
<font>Dana Carvey As Bush - Funny video clips are a click away</font>
Update II: I posted this note in the comments below, as the discussion started to focus on the moral weight of McNamara's late remorse for his role in the war:
I don't begin to know how to weigh the legacies of McNamara with the likes of Bush, Rummy, and Cheney. I do think that apologies, even deathbed apologies, are worth something--even if very little--for the historical record.
What would the debate over the bombing of Hiroshima or the fire bombing of Tokyo sound like if Truman or Curtis LeMay had published a posthumous memoir expressing a modicum of regret?
I would think that it would at least make their defenders have to qualify their remarks.
My thoughts, for the record...