Off-Balance in Iraq

I think I'm not getting enough sleep. In the past few minutes, I've seen Tim Russert grilling presidential candidate (and New Mexico governor) Bill Richardson on the vital issues of the day, trying to make him take a definitive stand on whether he's a Red Sox or a Yankees fan (I'm a Red Sox fan who has very little patience for the Yankees, and I don't care). I've seen Charlie Sheen doing a PSA for colon cancer (how did the network execs know that I wanted to get my health advice from Charlie Sheen?). And, after both houses of Congress bent over as far as they could go to give the Prez everything he wanted on Iraq, I go and read Frank Rich's latest column, which discusses the plight of the Iraqis this week, which just seems so unrelentingly depressing. I'm not sure if I've got a lot of comment on what he's got this week, but here are a few tidbits from "Operation Freedom from Iraqis":

When all else fails, those pious Americans who conceived and directed the Iraq war fall back on moral self-congratulation: at least we brought liberty and democracy to an oppressed people. But that last-ditch rationalization has now become America's sorriest self-delusion in this tragedy.

However wholeheartedly we disposed of their horrific dictator, the Iraqis were always pawns on the geopolitical chessboard rather than actual people in the administration's reckless bet to "transform" the Middle East. From "Stuff happens!" on, nearly every aspect of Washington policy in Iraq exuded contempt for the beneficiaries of our supposed munificence. Now this animus is completely out of the closet. Without Donald Rumsfeld and Paul Wolfowitz to kick around anymore, the war's dead-enders are pinning the fiasco on the Iraqis themselves. Our government abhors them almost as much as the Lou Dobbs spear carriers loathe those swarming "aliens" from Mexico.

Iraqis are clamoring to get out of Iraq. Two million have fled so far and nearly two million more have been displaced within the country. (That's a total of some 15 percent of the population.) Save the Children reported this month that Iraq's child-survival rate is falling faster than any other nation's. One Iraqi in eight is killed by illness or violence by the age of 5. Yet for all the words President Bush has lavished on Darfur and AIDS in Africa, there has been a deadly silence from him about what's happening in the country he gave "God's gift of freedom."

Of course, if we paid attention to this any of this, we might have to acknowledge that things aren't going swimmingly, and we can't have that. So let's keep it all under wraps.

Since the 2003 invasion, America has given only 466 Iraqis asylum. Sweden, which was not in the coalition of the willing, plans to admit 25,000 Iraqis this year alone. Our State Department, goaded by January hearings conducted by Ted Kennedy, says it will raise the number for this year to 7,000 (a figure that, small as it is, may be more administration propaganda). A bill passed by Congress this month will add another piddling 500, all interpreters.

In reality, more than 5,000 interpreters worked for the Americans. So did tens of thousands of drivers and security guards who also, in Senator Kennedy's phrase, have "an assassin's bull's-eye on their backs" because they served the occupying government and its contractors over the past four-plus years. How we feel about these Iraqis was made naked by one of the administration's most fervent hawks, the former United Nations ambassador John Bolton, speaking to The Times Magazine this month. He claimed that the Iraqi refugee problem had "absolutely nothing to do" with Saddam's overthrow: "Our obligation was to give them new institutions and provide security. We have fulfilled that obligation. I don't think we have an obligation to compensate for the hardships of war."

No, how could we owe them anything at all? Rich goes off in an interesting digression about how the issue of abortion has influenced Iraqi policy, which is worth clicking through to read. But I'm going to pick him back up with what may be the most evocative part of the column:

the real forerunner to American treatment of Iraqi refugees isn't [the Vietnam War] in any case, but World War II. That's when an anti-Semitic assistant secretary of state, Breckinridge Long, tirelessly obstructed the visa process to prevent Jews from obtaining sanctuary in America, not even filling the available slots under existing quotas. As many as 75,000 such refugees were turned away before the Germans cut off exit visas to Jews in late 1941, according to Howard Sachar's "History of the Jews in America."

Like the Jews, Iraqis are useful scapegoats. This month Mr. Bremer declared that the real culprits for his disastrous 2003 decision to cleanse Iraq of Baathist officials were unnamed Iraqi politicians who "broadened the decree's impact far beyond our original design." The Republican leader in the Senate, Mitch McConnell, is chastising the Iraqis for being unable "to do anything they promised."

The new White House policy, as Zbigniew Brzezinski has joked, is "blame and run." It started to take shape just before the midterm elections last fall, when Mr. Rumsfeld wrote a memo (propitiously leaked after his defenestration) suggesting that the Iraqis might "have to pull up their socks, step up and take responsibility for their country." By January, Mr. Bush was saying that "the Iraqi people owe the American people a huge debt of gratitude" and wondering aloud "whether or not there is a gratitude level that's significant enough in Iraq." In February, one of the war's leading neocon cheerleaders among the Beltway punditocracy lowered the boom. "Iraq is their country," Charles Krauthammer wrote. "We midwifed their freedom. They chose civil war." Bill O'Reilly and others now echo this cry.

The message is clear enough: These ungrateful losers deserve everything that's coming to them.

As long as we prolong the situation in Iraq, we can't even begin to address any of these issues. It's taking a tremendous toll on Iraqis, but we're not unscathed in this country, either. We need to own up to our mistakes and do what we can to make them right.