Learning no lessons from history
By Mahir Ali
WHEN, back in the 1960s, George W. Bush successfully manoeuvred to stay out of a war he vehemently favoured in theory, he could hardly have imagined that 40 years hence he would find himself voluntarily travelling to Vietnam, and that too as a guest of its communist government.
If any of the potential ironies crossed his mind when he found himself in Hanoi last week, Bush chose not to express it as he went about his business, managing to avoid almost all contact with ordinary Vietnamese — except, tellingly, in a well-publicised visit to a church. His approach was in stark contrast to that of Bill Clinton, who six years ago became the first US president to visit the country that refused to give up in the face of an all-out assault by the armed wing of American imperialism.
At the height of the aggression, there were half a million US troops in Vietnam. Carpet bombing and chemical warfare were the order of the day. None of it worked, and a frustrated Richard Nixon seriously contemplated the nuclear option. Henry Kissinger talked him out of it, but up to three million Vietnamese and 50,000 Americans nonetheless lost their lives.
It was a little more than 30 years ago that the last of the American forces fled Saigon. Ever since, the US has been striving to overcome the so-called Vietnam syndrome, supposedly responsible for a reluctance to intervene militarily in foreign lands. Unfortunately, far too many Americans have never drawn the appropriate lessons from their nation’s Vietnam experience, choosing to look upon it as a strategic failure rather than as a heinous international crime ultimately thwarted by heroic resistance.
There are, of course, profound differences between Vietnam and Iraq, but there are also echoes of the old conflict in the latest instance of naked aggression, not least in the sense that neither war ought to have been launched in the first place. That thought appears not to have crossed the incumbent US president’s mind in either context. When asked how he felt about being the guest of a former foe, he responded with a Bushism: “History has a long march to it.” He followed this up with another profundity: “Societies change, and relationships can constantly be altered to the good.”
Asked directly about any lessons that may apply to Iraq, he continued his struggle with syntax: “One lesson is ... that we tend to want there to be instant success in the world, and the task in Iraq is going to take a while.” Just as the “task” in Vietnam took a while, presumably? “It’s just going to take a long period of time,” Bush went on to say, “for the ideology that is hopeful, and that is an ideology of freedom, to overcome an ideology of hate.” And, to cap it all: “We’ll succeed unless we quit.”
That seems to imply that the US shouldn’t have quit Vietnam in 1975. But another reading is also possible: could it be that George W. was gazing at the past from the ex-enemy’s point of view? After all, back then the Vietnamese more or less had a monopoly on the ideologies of freedom and hope, while no one since the Nazis has quite been able to match the hatred that Washington selectively propagates.
Whatever one may think of Vietnam’s current status as a one-party state well advanced on the road to capitalism, it would be extremely difficult to coherently argue that the wars forced upon it were in a way necessary to reach this point. If anything, what the Vietnamese logically refer to as the American war helped to entrench communist rule.
Vietnam’s fate — and America’s position in the world — could have been very different had the US abided by the ostensibly anti-colonial Atlantic Charter agreed between Franklin Roosevelt and Winston Churchill in 1941, instead of restoring French rule in Indochina once the Japanese had been driven out four years later. It’s also worth noting that back in 1945 the nationalist Viet Minh forces were keen to establish fraternal relations with the US. Three decades later, Vietnam’s triumph in the war of national liberation was followed by sanctions instead of war reparations.
There are plenty of trends and events in America’s postwar history that could have served as cautionary tales when the invasion of Iraq was being contemplated. But, barring the likes of Noam Chomsky, no one could be bothered to pay attention. That attitude has changed somewhat with Iraq’s steady decline into bloody chaos. But not in every case. And particularly not in the case of Bush, whose evidently incurable intellectual incuriosity renders him resistant to points of view that don’t fit in with his Manichean worldview.
At a news conference in Hanoi last Friday, the US president was asked about a press report that suggested he wanted to send another 20,000 troops to Iraq. “Where was that report?” he responded. Upon learning that it had appeared in The Guardian, he said: “Well, I don’t read that paper often.” Of course not, George.
Reading reputedly isn’t one of George W.’s hobbies, and if he uses current affairs TV as a substitute for newspapers, it wouldn’t be particularly surprising to discover that he largely restricts himself to Rupert Murdoch’s rabidly right-wing Fox News channel, looking askance at marginally less biased networks as hotbeds of liberal intrigue. What, then, would he make of Al Jazeera English (AJE), which finally went on air a week ago?
Members of the Bush administration have on numerous occasions implied that the Arabic version of Al Jazeera is a terrorist network. This attitude has been based on presumption rather than close monitoring, plus a surprising degree of disconcertment over the fact that the Doha-based network approaches the news from a different angle than its western counterparts.
But what about the English channel? Should it be trying to compete with the likes of the BBC, CNN, Sky or Fox on their terms? That’s what The Guardian’s Mark Lawson implied in a comment on the day after AJE formally went on air last Wednesday, lamenting the fact that it had led successive news bulletins with reports of the growing humanitarian crisis in Gaza while paying little heed to local events in Britain and the US. “An English-language broadcaster,” he opined, “will surely limit its audience by continuing this editorial belittlement of the biggest English-speaking cultures.”
This sort of argument comes across as conceited, arrogant and immersed in a colonial mentality. It would have been incredibly silly of AJE to seek to position itself as a substitute for the plethora of local news outlets in English-speaking countries. And it is incredibly dumb of Lawson to suggest that anyone will be turning to AJE for coverage of the Queen’s speech or domestic politics in the US (where, incidentally, the channel is yet to find a cable conduit) or Canada. His comment includes the ridiculous implication that audiences are incapable of purposefully switching between channels.
AJE intends, as far as one can tell, to capitalise on its Middle Eastern base by offering the anglophone world an alternative narrative, a different perspective on international events. Its success will depend on the extent to which it is able to acquaint international audiences with a picture of the Middle East that is more detailed and less inaccurate than the one projected by the western media. Contrary to Lawson’s mean-spirited prognosis, I suspect substantial numbers of people in Europe and the Americas will be keen to tune in, not least out of curiosity.
To make itself more palatable, AJE has opted for the sensible strategy of poaching presenters from rival networks such as CNN and the BBC, including Riz Khan, Rageh Omar and Dave Morash, a gay Jew who will be AJE’s anchor in Washington. Then there is that pillar of the British establishment, Sir David Frost, who, through his high-level contacts in the UK and US governments, satisfied himself that all the propaganda about Al Jazeera’s terrorist connections was a load of balderdash, before signing up. Somewhat unexpectedly, Frost provided AJE with a scoop of sorts two days after its launch. Last Friday he needled his first victim with the notion that western intervention in Iraq has “so far been pretty much of a disaster”. The interview began his response with the words “It has...” That’s a fairly mundane admission by most standards, but it’s probably not irrelevant that the words were uttered by one of the Iraq invasion’s more articulate advocates: Tony Blair. No.10 Downing Street immediately went into spin mode, suggesting that the British PM is in the habit of agreeing with his interlocutors before answering a question. The explanation did not cut much ice, and one would like to think it was a case of Blair seeing little point in denying the obvious.
To his credit, Blair is said to have talked Bush out of bombing Al Jazeera’s headquarters in Doha a couple of years ago (although the network did suffer casualties in Kabul as well as Baghdad). Surprisingly, no one appears to have raised the question of his transatlantic partner’s “betrayal” with the US president — who is likely to be as reluctant to expose himself to AJE as he is to read The Guardian.
Nor can one seriously expect him to pause for a moment and ponder on the surreality of a situation whereby in the world of satellite television, media diversity in the West depends to a substantial extent on an operation bankrolled by the emir of Qatar.
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