Gates of Iraq

The flap about the wall put up by the U.S. military separating Sunnis from Shiites in Baghdad brought the same unease I felt last week after Defense Secretary Robert Gates spoke to the American Chamber of Commerce in Cairo. Gates's comments, like the Pentagon's idea to effectively "gate" Iraqi neighborhoods, perhaps reflect a growing Washington realism about the Iraqi venture. Yet they also indicate confusion about how to sort out the bloody mess and foreboding of what will happen if we can't.

The context, of course, to put it charitably, is that the Bush administration made some disastrous miscalculations in invading Iraq. Thus, it is difficult to have much confidence in its revisions of strategy, such as the Baghdad Security Plan, even when they are backed by pros like Gates and the new American ambassador in Iraq, Ryan Crocker. If the Bush team couldn't get it right four years ago, when Iraqi as well as international support for the invasion was at its zenith, what success can we expect now, after around 70,000 Iraqis or more have been killed and some 4 million turned into refugees?

What struck me about Gates's comments in Cairo was his elaboration on previous general statements that he had made since succeeding Rumsfeld about the serious consequences of "failure." Now he spoke in terms of a "failed state in Iraq," of "chaos," that would "adversely impact the security and prosperity of every nation in the Middle East and Gulf region." He went on: "The first and secondary effects of a collapse in Iraq--with all of its economic, religious, security and geopolitical implications--will be felt in capitals and communities of the Middle East well before they are felt in Washington or New York. The forces that would be unleashed--of sectarian strife, of an emboldened extremist movement with access to sanctuaries--do not recognize or respect national boundaries." Listeners could be forgiven for feeling that this wasn't hyperbole, but a frightening preview from an ex-CIA director of what really may happen.

In the next breath, speaking of confusion, Gates was forced to acknowledge that despite his apocalyptic nightmare, "our commitment there is not unlimited"--that being, of course, because the bungling of the war has undermined American support for it. On Monday, congressional Democrats decided to send the White House a spending bill requiring the start of a troop withdrawal by Oct. 1. Gates's message is essentially that we can't afford to fail but don't be surprised if we do.

It would be nice to see the glass as half full, as Crocker suggested in an interview with al-Iraqiya last week, when he spoke of the violence being perpetrated by tiny minorities and praised the Iraqis' "real sense of determination to find a way through these problems." Crocker is no doubt sincere, yet keep in mind that he and Gates have been brought in to clean up the messes made by others in the administration, and both have humbling personal experiences they spoke about last week that underline the limits of American influence in the Middle East. Crocker survived the bombing of the U.S. embassy in Beirut in 1983, an act that presaged the failure of a U.S. military-backed effort to end Lebanon's civil war. Gates held talks with the Iran's revolutionary prime minister in 1979 about keeping shah-era relations with Iran on track. Three days later, as Gates noted in Cairo last week, Iranian radicals seized the U.S. embassy in Tehran; that Iranian prime minister, a moderate interested in better relations with Washington, was quickly pushed from office. As with Lebanon and Iran, whatever dreams Bush may still have in Iraq, having them is not as simple as accomplishing them.

--By Scott MacLeod/Cairo