Hypocrisy stalks the land

The view from inside Iraq of this war's effect on people -- and on truth -- moves PAUL WILLIAM ROBERTS to outrage

By PAUL WILLIAM ROBERTS
Tuesday, March 25, 2003 - Page A17

I have been in and out of Iraq more often than the Turkish army these past few days, viewing the war both firsthand and on the surprisingly copious array of television news channels available all over Syria and Jordan. I heard Donald Rumsfeld on the radio discussing "the humanity that goes into" building the kind of weapons of mass destruction that America prefers these days. I saw for myself enough of their effects, the inevitable consequences of their inbuilt humanity, to convince myself that no dialogue is possible with Washington's current leadership.

We no longer speak the same language. To them, terms like "freedom," "humanity," "democracy" and "liberation" signify the opposite of what they mean to me. I resent this theft and abuse of language.

And I am enraged at George W. Bush for forcing me, now the war is under way, to accept implicitly that the coalition must continue with its killing and destroying until the stated goal of "regime change" has been achieved. To stop at anything less now would be crueler to most Iraqis than whatever atrocities this conclusion brings. This is like Sophie's Choice.

And I hate both Bushes for the pleasure I distinctly felt when Iraqi television broke into its Saddam lovefest to reveal the nation's troops gloating over the corpses of U.S. soldiers, manhandling them so the camera could see the fresh bullet holes that punched the envelope of life to death. We have all become less than human in this. We all share in shame. Earlier this week, Ali Abul-Ragheb, the Jordanian Prime Minister, told me, "There will only be losers in this war, no winners."

During the course of one long day last week I was in England, Germany, France and Lebanon. The following day, I traveled through Syria, Jordan and Iraq -- seven different countries in which I had the same conversation with some 50 ordinary people: pilots, waiters, cab drivers, chefs, merchants, managers, barmaids. Not one felt that America had pursued a just course for a just cause. Not one believed the stated goals were the real objectives.

Not one had a good word to say about Saddam Hussein, either. Yet each, on learning I was from Canada -- and this is usually the first question you're asked nowadays -- had nothing but praise for Canada's stand against the war and support for the United Nations. I didn't have the heart to tell anyone that Canadian ships and servicemen were actively involved as American accomplices as we spoke.

Despite our claims of neutrality, we have 31 troops on exchange with British and U.S. forces in the Persian Gulf -- which gives us a greater presence than the majority of members of the so-called coalition. I felt ashamed at the hypocrisy.

Jordan feels ashamed, too. The Prime Minister told me his country would never permit the United States to launch an attack from its soil. Yet I saw U.S. military vehicles towing vast fuel containers through eastern Jordan; and I saw F-15 fighter jets landing somewhere behind the low hills lining the highway to western Iraq. The Jordanian air force does not possess any F-15s -- the Prime Minister himself volunteered that fact.

This morning, I was forced to abandon a new attempt to sneak back into Iraq when my guide and I stumbled across a raging battle between U.S. Special Forces and Iraqi troops somewhere near the town of Akashat. As I write this, three nations are denying all knowledge of such a battle.

As many of the "embedded" media enthuse over the "courage and professionalism" of their new pals, or marvel shamelessly at the wondrous toys they now get to play with, the rest of us, along with increasingly many Iraqis, wonder if we will sleep in a bed at all tonight or else bide the pelting of a sandstorm out in the rocky wastes.

Unable to sleep, we wonder exactly what the nature of that question is to which "war" is supposedly an answer. For, gazing over new wastelands of rubble, or waiting breathless as the thump of automatic weapons echoes over berms and orchards, it seems war has substantially changed little since Wilfred Owen wrote Dulce et Decorum Est. The first casualty of any war is civilization itself.

No one should have to apologize for any insult hurled at Mr. Bush and his Wild Bunch, who were warned not to embark on imperial aggression yet ignored the warnings. You wouldn't object either, if you, too, could see the desolation they have made, or smell the ceaseless odors of burning, or taste the constant tang of fear on your own tongue, or feel the shuddering of your world as a million-dollar missile leapt up from the earth 100 yards away, escaping into the night behind a pillar of smoke and sparkling stars.

The old Soviet Union far exceeded Saddam's sins -- yet no one suggested "pre-empting" Moscow's danger. One can only assume it was because the Russians could fight back.

But what does that make of this current travesty?

Paul William Roberts has written nine books of non-fiction, including The Demonic Comedy: Some Detours in the Baghdad of Saddam Hussein. He is currently in Iraq covering the war for Harper's Magazine.