Peter Beinart, unlike so many others, seems to have learned
precisely the right lessons from supporting the wrong war. Where Peter started
off as an avid, full-blown supporter of the war, he has found himself today in
a very different place. His latest piece is a fascinating accounting of
how we come to make the wrong decisions only with the best of intentions. My own
situation is, in many ways, quite different but I suppose I, too, am on my way to coming to terms with Beinart's somewhat dispiriting but necessary realizations about power and idealism.
I was adamantly opposed to the war from the beginning. I didn't waver (at least not until much later). For me, there was no gray area. I really had trouble
understanding how anyone who called themselves a “liberal” could lend their support to such a destructive project. However, my views became a bit more
ambiguous by early 2005 when I saw the promise of what could have been and,
what I believed then, was still possible. I was living in Jordan at the
time. I remember seeing the pictures of Iraqis braving terrorist threats to
cast their votes for the first time in their lives. For me, it was one of those
rare moments which seemed to hold within it the hopes and dreams of a people. For
me, it was a beautiful moment, moving, emotional. It was a formative
experience. We lived in a different world then and readers of DA will know how
much hope I had for the now-aborted "Arab spring." I remember telling one of my
friends in Jordan then (and,
trust me, I hated saying it): in 10 or 15 years, we will look back and we might
have to admit to ourselves that the Bush administration was the best thing that
happened to the Middle East. Well, as the
following two years would bear out, I was totally wrong. The opposite of what I
“predicted” is now true: the Bush administration is the worst
thing that has happened to the Middle East.
Peter says he was seduced by the notion that American could
be what it had not yet become: a “revolutionary
democratic power.” I began to believe this as well. This is, really, what I longed for, and, like so many others, we were
seduced by the idealism of revolution. Beinart’s conclusion is sobering: “We
can't be the country those Iraqis wanted us to be.” With that in mind, he goes on to make what I
think is the fundamental distinction between liberal interventionists
and neo-cons:
Being a liberal, as opposed to a
neoconservative, means recognizing that the United State has no monopoly on
insight or righteousness. Some Iraqis might have been desperate enough to trust
the United States
with unconstrained power. But we shouldn't have trusted ourselves.