The Breakfast Table

The Strange Juxtaposition of Liberation and Protest

Dear Tony,

I just heard report of a poll in the United States that showed an overnight 19 percent jump in President Bush’s popularity two days into the war, which just goes to show you that everybody (or at least most everybody) loves a winner. The war appears to be going well (unless you are a Saddamite). The so-called “decapitation” attack may or may not have killed Saddam, but it definitely appears to have struck a major blow to Iraq’s ability to coordinate response to the U.S. assault. The best evidence of that is all the unexploded ordnance at oil fields and refineries. The country’s leadership also appears to be ignorant of what is happening around their country—apparently they haven’t had time to watch the round-the-clock TV coverage. On my TV in Cannes, they cut away from endless images of American armor racing unopposed across the Iraqi desert to a press conference with a clueless Iraqi official who insisted that no coalition troops were on the ground in his country … then back to the racing armor. The wholesale surrender of an Iraqi division in southern Iraq is hardly surprising, since few people thought Iraq’s regular army would put up much of a fight. They are not, after all, stupid or suicidal, and there is, of course, their track record to consider. The oddest thing about these first few days of the assault is the juxtaposition of vehement anti-war protests from America interspersed with reports of the war’s rapid progress. In the old Vietnam War days, we were protesting against a failed war, trying to bring our government to its senses before it threw another 10,000 to 20,000 lives into the ever-widening maw of defeat. Now, on the same day, I watch Iraqi civilians jumping for joy at the arrival of American and British troops, and American youth actively protesting their liberation. Maybe it’s just the use of force being protested, although it is hard to imagine how Saddam would have been toppled otherwise.

The protests in the rest of the world make more sense, because they are rooted in anti-Americanism. People resent unilateral displays of American power, which is to be expected, but which shouldn’t preclude those displays. Our president, admirably resolute but sadly undiplomatic, has done a lot to fuel the phenomenon. What surprise me are the echoes of it I hear in the American protests. I wonder if we have somehow bred a generation of American-hating Americans. These are young people who feel it is somehow immoral to be inheriting the most successful nation in the world, the richest and most powerful, and, most people would agree, the free-est and fairest. Granted, the United States is a work in progress, but I’d understand their anger better if the South had won the Civil War, and our nation’s prosperity were propped on the backs of millions of slaves, or if the United States at the turn of the last century had build a colonial empire and sucked its current wealth out of the Third World. But neither of these things are true; indeed, U.S. institutions are admired and imitated worldwide—even by our critics. Considering the range of options available to critics and reformers in America, street demonstrations would seem to be somewhat shrill and unnecessary, not to mention ineffective. The war against Saddam is certainly defensible, both morally and politically. I understand that reasonable people might disagree—who can’t, after listening to the most protracted debate in the history of man—but the range of disagreement wasn’t that wide. After all, the U.N. Security Council, never notable for unanimity, was in agreement about the dangerous nature of Saddam’s regime and voted as a bloc to demand that he immediately disarm or face “serious consequences.” The disagreements prior to this conflict were over the meanings of the words “immediate” and “serious.” The hard-core of these protests is a crew of smart, young activists who object to every manifestation of American power. I suspect in Portland especially they are the same folks who were behind the WTO protests a few years back. From my own liberal, reasonably well-traveled perch, the removal of Saddam will make the world a safer place, will very likely leave Iraq far better off, and may well lead to sweeping positive changes in the Middle East.

I might go to Iraq when this is over, although I have nothing planned. I wrote an in-depth story about Saddam last year for the Atlantic Monthly, and while I was researching it several of the Iraqi expatriates who are now part of the government-in-waiting invited me to visit them “next year in Baghdad.” At the time it seemed unrealistically hopeful, but no more. So I might take them up on it. If you’re going to be there, I’ll gladly guzzle some Evian with you.

I have no desire to plunge into the chaos again, but suspect I will. My brushes with that kind of excitement have always resulted from stubbornness more than thrill-seeking. When I get hooked on a story, like, say, Black Hawk Down, I tend to pursue it down paths that I otherwise would not travel (like my 1997 solo foray into Mogadishu). If that results in a few heart-pounding moments that I can drop into my writing later on, so be it, but it’s never my goal. I like things to go smoothly and safely. I also like working on stories far away from the immediate media obsession, which explains why I’m nowhere near Iraq. I am actually supposed to be in Iran, but the authorities there have not yet seen fit to approve my application for a visa. So last night I walked out in the beach here in Cannes—it’s still way too chilly to swim—and squinted out over the Mediterranean in the direction of Iraq. There wasn’t a hint of fireworks on the calm horizon. There are worse places to sit out a war.

MB