and I qualify for a senior position in the Bush administration!
It's in poor taste to be humorous about such a disaster, but sometimes it's the only way to numb the pain. Both the airwaves of the blogosphere and, to a lesser extent, the mainstream media have been filled with the "progress" of what may soon be the final unraveling of our misguided policies in the Middle East. As usual, Josh Marshall has been all over this. See his comments here, here, and here . Josh's assessment --- that the key factions in Iraq have been hanging back and waiting for us to leave before unleashing massive sectarian violence --- is chillingly grounded in the history of the region.
Speaking of history, it would be nice to know if anyone planning our first preventive war had taken the time to read up on the region. I mean anyone at all. Even a chubby intern with a crush on the president and a visible thong would have been able, after reading a couple books, of raising serious questions about the goals and planning of the war.
One thing said intern might have foiled is the "Curses! You tricked me again!" nature of our dealings with Iraqi opposition groups. It's long been clear that Ahmed Chalabi sold Wolfowitz et al. some choice Florida swampland. Now we learn that the administration has been taking (with open eyes and gaping mouths) the word of a one of Chalabi's minions (aptly code-named "curveball") at face value.
In this, as in so many other ways, there are direct historical parallels to Britain's efforts in the Middle East following WW I. If you read David Fromkin's excellent book, A Peace to End All Peace, you'll learn the story of Muhammed Sharif al-Faruqi, a young Arab lieutenant befriended by Mark Sykes in 1915. Sykes was Britain's chief policy planner for the post-war Middle East and the principal author of what is today called the Sykes-Picot treaty, an agreement between the great powers dividing the Ottoman Empire into British, French, and Russian spheres. Far less is known about al-Faruqi. His life before meeting Sykes is a mystery, and his life afterwards was relatively short, as he was killed in a skirmish in 1920. But in 1915 and 1916, during the critical stages of Sykes' planning and negotiations, al-Faruqi was front and center. To the British he presented himself as being associated with a secret society of Arab officers who would rise up against the Turks, help England seize the Middle East, and bring the war to an early end. To the Arabs he presented himself as an agent of the British. As Fromkin states:
During his months in the spotlight in 1915-16, he directly or indirectly led Britain to promise concessions to France, Russia, Arabs, and others in the postwar Middle East. As a middleman between British officials and Arab leaders, he was either misunderstood of else misrepresented each to the other. One can only guess at his motives. To the twentieth-century Middle East, he left a legacy of misunderstanding that time has not yet entirely dissipated....
al-Faruqi spoke little English, and it is difficult to tell from the fragmentary historical record the extent to which he was correctly understood or the extent to which words were put in his mouth by those who wanted to hear what they claimed he said.
Sound familiar? If you have a little time I strongly recommend Fromkin's book. It's a serious work of history, so not exactly a light read, but well worth the effort. One can only hope that the parallels between our involvement in this part of world start diverging, soon and rapidly, from Britain's after WW I.
Update: BillMon over at the Whiskey Bar is also citing Fromkin's book and the similarities between Britain's experiences in the 1920s and the mess we find ourself in today. There's no comfort in these similarities, particularly for the fine young men and women of our military, who have been sent on a fool's errand not of their choosing.
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