Rumsfeld’s
Last Stand
by
Christopher Manion
by Christopher Manion
"One never
knows, do one?" ~ Fats Waller
One
never does know. Events take strange, unexpected twists and turns
on their way to becoming "history." Charles Burton Marshall
wisely observed, over twenty years ago, that "there is no such thing
as the foreseeable future."
During
the past two years and more, contributors to these pages have endeavored
to lay the groundwork for a rational critique of the Bush administration’s
invasion of Iraq. We appealed to history, theoretical analysis,
and the Constitution. We exposed subterfuge. We countered contradiction.
We repelled personal vilification. We propelled esoteric terms into
the mainstream conversation and "Straussian" and "neocon" were
suddenly recognized as ideological schools, even by what is called,
rather nostalgically, the "mainstream media."
And
yet, under Karl Rove’s able and watchful eye, the Bush team exuded
flinty determination, resolve, and downright stubbornness – exactly
the qualities, according to Rove, required to salvage a Bush victory,
no matter what happens in the next six months – in the economy,
in Iraq, or in the terror front. Because, well, "One never knows,
do one?"
The
team could not admit mistakes. No once could lack relentless resolve.
And no one could give anyone else the time of day. If a question
was unwelcome, it would simply not be answered. The team served
up a clashing, contradictory, chaotic kaleidoscope of assertions
as both explanation and justification for every surfacing revelation
of error, deception, or just plain incompetence that followed.
The
war juggernaut gaily rolled along, exploiting America’s patriotic
symbols and traditions in every possible way. LRC dutifully pointed
to the gathering piles of royal undergarments at the side of the
road as the emperor marched by, unflinching and unclad, but nothing
we said seemed even to make a dent in the din. When we got close,
all we heard was, "9-11 changed everything."
But
Divine Providence has hidden ways that are beyond human understanding.
Small things suddenly assume the proportion of great things. And
now, taking everyone by surprise, a relatively insignificant element
in the myriad of blunders that the invasion has visited on that
unhappy desert land has brought the entire imperial enterprise in
Iraq to teeter on the brink. Corruption, slaughter, and deception
all failed to ignite the American domestic imagination. But the
revelation that a few Iraqi prisoners might have been tortured by
a few inexperienced noncoms from the Appalachian backwoods (where
I live), has suddenly brought the careening imperial juggernaut
of the world’s sole superpower to a screeching halt.
Seven
Days In May
In
coming days, the whole war will be on the line. The jumble of political
agendas, backroom deals, crosstown rivalries, and frayed bonds of
trust that have so far propped up the war effort will be up for
grabs.
At
the foundation of the crisis lies the administration’s steadfast
refusal to address the Iraq issue rationally. Instead, it chose
classical themes of intimidation abroad and fear at home. I’ve always
wondered, was it because they didn’t trust the rational powers of
the electorate, or because they didn’t feel confident that they
could deliver a rational explanation? Or perhaps some of both? We
may never know. But now the administration that has lived by the
sword of symbol and passion will not be able to appeal to reason
in its self-defense. And the imagery and symbolism of the torture
chamber are immense, and powerful, and damning.
After
9-11, the Bush team abandoned rational debate altogether. But intimidation
was fierce. Domestically, if you criticized the war, you were on
the side of the terrorists. Internationally, we were the world’s
greatest superpower, unstoppable and unbeatable. (This approach,
however, sometimes failed here and there. Remember how they browbeat
Turkey, who wouldn’t take even a thirty-five billion-dollar payoff
to allow U.S. government troops to invade Iraq from the north? Other
countries were not so stalwart: knowledgeable estimates of payoffs
and promises to supporters and coalition partners (all in U.S. taxpayer
dollars) begin at fifty billion and go upwards from there.)
The
result was an awkward and unprecedented situation where two conversations
in two different and dissonant languages were taking place: one
among supporters primarily within the United States of the
U.S. government invasion; and the other, primarily foreign, among
most of the rest of the world, opposing the war. Rumsfeld wrote
off those realms as "Old Europe," while Bush celebrated the supporters
as the "coalition of the willing."
The
United States had never been so involuntarily isolated in its history.
There were few bridges built between these two views – just bad
feelings, as demonstrated most recently with the change of governments
in Madrid, when Spain was suddenly transformed from a member of
"New Europe" to one of "Old Europe" ironically, by electing a
socialist government.
The
torture allegations have done what nothing else had: they broke
down the ironclad Manichaean dualism that the administration had
adopted since 9-11. Examples abound: "They hate us because we are
so good (or so ‘free’)"; "End the Evil" and the "Axis of Evil";
"Deliver us from Evil." And evil was always "over there," in the
hateful heart of some distant Islamist. But that convenient propaganda
construct has now collapsed. Evil is "over here" too. And we sent
it "over there." A worldwide consensus condemning the Abu Ghraib
torture has emerged, and the control freaks that kept the coffins
out of sight simply cannot shut this symbol down. War supporters
now desperately plead, "hey, everybody is human." But this doesn’t
always sit well, coming from the Armageddon gang that took its orders
directly from God.
On
the practical level, this collapse of moral authority means that
all bets are off – and that includes the very human world of the
U.S. Senate. For years Rumsfeld and his subordinates have stiffed
major committees. They have fudged budgets. They have unnecessarily
alienated staunch Republicans who want to support the President.
They
even kept Dick Lugar, Chairman of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee,
in the dark. "We all should have been advised," he said. "When
the administration needs support, it needs members of Congress to
have full information so they can be constructive partners." In
the view of many Republicans, Rumsfled and his team have been imperious
and condescending. It is all the worse because it was all so unnecessary.
But
there it is. And now the chickens will come home to roost. What
Mr. Rumsfeld needs most in this crisis is not swagger or gravitas,
but the goodwill that should have been building for years between
his department and Capitol Hill, especially with members of his
own party. And that very goodwill is precisely what he now lacks
the most, because he has valued it the least during his tenure.
I
expect this deficiency to become more evident and more exacerbated
in coming days. Mr. Rumsfeld will be subjected to a grueling ordeal
on Capitol Hill, and things will probably get worse before they
get better. One thing is clear: the severity that Rumsfeld confronts
in coming days will not be predicated merely on the torture allegations.
Rather, those revelation will be the lens through which all the
rest of the misgivings and mistakes will now pass in review. The
floodgates are open – and the avalanche cannot be far behind. Friends
will be few: as one senate conservative used to say, "If you didn’t
include me in the takeoff, why should I get aboard just before the
crash?"
In
the meantime, even under the pressure of the new revelations, Mr.
Rumsfeld has not lost his arrogant air. On Wednesday’s Good Morning
America, he was given the opportunity to apologize to the Iraqi
people. Not only did he refuse to do so, he also deftly shifted
blame for the alleged war crimes from his own shoulders to those
of the American people. "Oh my goodness," he replied, "any American
who sees the photographs that we have seen has to feel apologetic
to the Iraqi people who were abused and recognize that that is something
that is unacceptable and un-American."
As
far as Rumsfeld is concerned, that’s an order. But don’t expect
the Senate – or the country – to snap to and salute, and get him
off the hot seat. This could well be Rumsfeld’s last stand, the
old soldier’s turn to just fade away.
May
7, 2004
Christopher
Manion [send him mail] is
president of Manion Music,
LLC, which produces copyrighted, royalty-free music collections
for telecommunications media and commercial and hospitality sites
that use background music or music-on-hold. He writes from the Shenandoah
Valley.
Copyright
© Christopher Manion 2004. All Rights reserved.
Christopher
Manion Archives
|