The Politics of Truth

Wednesday, U.S. forces in An-Najaf were treated to what one officer called a “Macy’s Day parade” by several thousand residents happy to see them advancing through the city. But that was the first such celebration in a war the administration said would be fast and easy, partly because Iraqis would welcome U.S. troops as liberators.

There have been plenty of indications that not everyone is as pleased as the revelers in An-Najaf to see U.S. forces. Soldiers have met rather intense resistance by irregulars—and in many places where U.S. troops have prevailed, the populations have been wary of their presence. Even in An-Najaf, the celebration was halted temporarily when a car with men hanging out the windows and pointing AK-47s sped toward the troops.

In short, the picture of how Iraqis feel about this war is anything but simple.

Perhaps in the end, the administration will be proven right. But if U.S. leaders have underestimated the power of nationalism in Iraq, the lack of a liberation “bounce” will vastly complicate not just the war, but also the much more complex and difficult peace.

Having been convinced by exile groups and opposition leaders with their own pro-war agenda that Iraq would fall “like a house of cards,” the Bush administration might instead face a population that is far more ungrateful for our efforts than some accuse the French of being for the Allied liberation of France in World War II.

If the level of resentment is high, U.S. troops who occupy the country, maybe for years to come, could face guerrilla warfare or terrorist attacks. It might also undermine one of the administration’s reasons for going to war: to establish a democracy in Iraq that would create a domino effect in a region populated with authoritarian rulers. It will not be easy to build that model democracy if a large part of the Iraqi population is hostile, or just sullen.

Even if the Iraqis are thrilled at the overthrow of Saddam Hussein, that jubilation could wane quickly as the United States passes from the role of liberator to occupier. The Iraqis are a proud people steeped in their history and their contributions to civilization. They remember their conquering heroes Saladin and Nebuchadnezzar as if their reigns were yesterday, rather than centuries before our own George Washington.

And the Iraqis have been difficult vassals in the past. Ottoman dictionaries, from the time when the Turks ruled what is now Iraq, reportedly defined arrogance as “walk like a Baghdadi.” And the British—who took over from the Turks after World War I—soon moved to install a Hashemite king to act as their agent during their colonial rule. Direct rule had been too difficult and costly.

So the vital question is this: Will a people free of outside control for less than a century, after several centuries of domination, live with an occupation, even if it is temporary?

What Iraqis fear

It’s not clear yet whether most Iraqis will welcome Americans in what they see as their initial role, as liberators. Some American commentators and government officials have explained away the relative silence from the Iraqi population as temporary. They suggested that Iraqis are so frightened of Saddam—and a possible repeat of his crackdown of rebellions in 1991—that the celebrations will begin only when his head is paraded on a pike.

Of course Iraqis are afraid. Saddam has always ruled by fear, and terror is the key weapon in his arsenal to keep people in check, and to discourage dissent. In my years as a diplomat in Baghdad, just before the Persian Gulf War, Iraqis simply would not talk about the government or Saddam, other than to utter ritualistic praises about his enlightened rule and popularity.

There were at least seven intelligence agencies, several of which spied on the others. Every neighborhood had its government agents to watch and report on neighbors. Nobody was exempt from government prying.

One professor friend of mine recounted how he had entertained a senior government official at dinner. The next day, my friend and his wife were summoned to the local security headquarters for interrogation about what was discussed and what the official had said. Paranoia is entrenched at all levels of society. Torture, arbitrary executions and disappearances reinforced the reign of terror.

Still, fear of Saddam and his thugs may not be the only reason Iraqis are less than jubilant about their pending liberation. A long history of having conquered and being conquered has left the Iraqis jaded, cynical and suspicious of foreigners’ stated goals.

They joined the fight against the Ottomans in the first world war, alongside the British, only to have their national ambitions betrayed and their historic borders carved up to maximize British political and economic interests, including the hiving off of Kuwait as a separate emirate. At the time, the British claimed they knew what was best for the Iraqis: a jodhpurs-and-pith-helmet colonial rule.

The Iran–Iraq war, so often portrayed as an example of Saddam’s wanton aggression, was viewed by most Iraqis as a decadelong sacrifice to keep out possible new conquerors, in that case the Persians. Virtually all Iraqi families lost loved ones in that brutal conflict fought with equal courage by the Shiites and the Sunnis. The Shiites, for all their justifiable grievances against Sunni rule, proved themselves in that war to be Iraqis first in the face of an external enemy, and opponents of Saddam second.

Suspicions raised

Given that history, Iraqis may well be skeptical that liberation is the objective of the U.S. invasion. Once Saddam is gone and we remain, they may well see us as only the latest in a long line of conquerors with designs on their land.

When I worked in Iraq in the late 1980s and early ’90s, one of the common themes in conversations from the bazaar to the ministries was that self-interest is the motivating factor in the policies of all governments. The United States supported Saddam during the Iran–Iraq war because it was in its self-interest to do so, not because it was being altruistic. The United States gave the Iranians weapons in the same war because it was in its self-interest to do so.

“Why should we believe you are motivated by other than self-interest now?” my Iraqi friends would ask after that war.

There is even more recent history that has stirred bitterness. For the past 12 years, Iraqis have suffered from debilitating economic sanctions, first put into place by the United States and subsequently by the United Nations. The goal was initially to pressure Saddam to withdraw from Kuwait, and later to force disarmament of weapons of mass destruction.

Those who supported the sanctions saw them as a way to avoid war, but the Iraqis didn’t necessarily agree they were being spared suffering—especially as the policy dragged on without a foreseeable end.

It is not an accident that gold jewelry in Baghdad’s Khadamiya market is cheaper than anywhere else in the world. In Iraqi society, heirlooms are passed from generation to generation; gold is not just bangles and accessories, but serves as families’ savings accounts. The sanctions have forced many families to liquidate those accounts to put food on the table.

Saddam’s wager

Iraqis have been told for years that the Americans are responsible for the destruction of the personal wealth of the nation. Consequently, the hatred of Saddam, which is widespread after 30 years of tyranny, does not necessarily translate into affection for or even trust of those who have reduced them to such dire straits.

Saddam’s endgame wager this time is the same as during the 1991 gulf war, even as his strategy and tactics have changed. When I met with him on Aug. 6, 1990, four days after his invasion of Kuwait, he told me he did not believe that the United States had the political will or the tenacity to either accept the deaths of 10,000 soldiers in the Arabian desert—or to remain there as long as it would take to defeat his forces.

In that war, he made the mistake of leaving his troops exposed in the desert where U.S. forces could pick them off at will—as they did, without exposing themselves to the prospect of high casualties. This time, he has taken a page out of the Stalin handbook, drawing American forces deep into the country, stretching their supply lines and trying to force them into urban killing fields. His idea is surely to kill or injure enough Americans so that we will go away.

If he cannot hurt the United States militarily, the alternative is to hold out long enough so that the war of attrition in Baghdad wears away the political support for the war, and turns the Muslim world so against Americans that international opposition will be impossible to ignore.

To succeed, Saddam needs his people’s support, as well as popular support in the Arab world.

Unlikely to survive

It is unlikely Saddam will survive as leader of Iraq in any case. But it’s also not yet clear—and may not be clear for a long time—whether the United States will score the full victory it says it wants. A military win is one thing. But to bring democracy to Iraq—and to avoid a disastrous long-term struggle with its Arab neighbors—the United States will need to win the battle for people’s hearts and minds.

So far, we have lost that battle in the greater Muslim world. The leaders of many neighboring countries were willing to go along with the war, but many of their fellow citizens do not agree with the war. Some Arabs are even willing to join Saddam in battle. Newspapers last week reported that hundreds of men from across the Arab world were trying to get to Baghdad to fight coalition troops.

We are likely to lose more support during the battle for Baghdad if it is as bloody as some predict. The juxtaposition of Baghdad burning under American air assault with photos of two Iraqi peasants who say they shot down Apache helicopters leaves the impression that this is a war not to liberate but to conquer, a realization of Arabs' worst nightmares.

There are ways to ameliorate those fears, and perhaps even begin to regain some trust. One way would be to make the rebuilding of Iraq's institutions a truly international project involving a significant role for the United Nations, our estranged allies, and even Iraq's neighbors, including Syria and Iran. Only by having everybody involved in a positive way can we hope to avoid attempts to undermine our efforts.

The other way to generate good will would be to quickly reinvigorate the peace process between Israelis and the Palestinians, acknowledging that this is an issue of vital concern among many Arabs.

We should be under no illusions; the road to democracy will be long and tough. Iraqis of all stripes will quickly learn to speak to their American occupiers in the mellifluous tones of democracy.

But the real game will be, as it has long been, about power—who has it, how to get it and how to use it for the benefit of family, clan, tribe and religion. Brokering deals among these competing interests will take all of our ingenuity and acumen.

JOSEPH WILSON was deputy chief of mission at the U.S. Embassy in Baghdad from 1988 to 1991. He also served as special assistant to President Clinton at the National Security Council and as ambassador to Gabon. He is an adjunct scholar at the Middle East Institute in Washington, D.C. He wrote this article for Perspective.