‘A Fragile State’

YOU hear certain things over and over, as you spend some time in Iraq. You hear them from Iraqis, Americans, and others. What you hear is: We’ve made great progress in 2008. Al-Qaeda, the militias, and the rest of those lovelies are on the run. But our progress is fragile and reversible. If the coalition leaves too soon-before Iraq can defend itself-there will be hell to pay. If we leave too soon, our work will be for nought. You also hear, Iraqis don’t want Americans and other foreigners in their country. (That includes foreign terrorists too, of course.) No one likes to be occupied. At the same time, Iraqis are very, very worried about the American departure: a departure that precedes stabilization. It’s “Yankee, go home-but don’t leave us at the mercy of the wolves. Go home at the right time.” One word you hear constantly is “normalcy.” That is the great Iraqi desire: normalcy-a normal life, in which one can study, marry, have children, work, and pray, as countless people do elsewhere. Normalcy is not a modest goal, it is the shining ideal. Four of us journalists are here in Iraq, invited by the State Department. The feeling at State, it seems, is that Americans have lost touch with Iraq. The war is off the front pages, and sometimes doesn’t even make it to the inside pages. Is that because it’s going better? Can Iraq be news when it’s not a debacle? The American embassy in Baghdad is one of Saddam’s old palaces. Our GIs are swimming in his pool, an amazing fact. In the ballroom, missiles shoot upward-that is, they do so in a painting on the wall. The painting is as crude as Saddam’s ideas and ambitions. In this ballroom are makeshift offices, and the sign on one of them catches my eye: “U.S. Department of Justice-Committee on Integrity.” History is a remarkable thing. We have a tour of the International Zone, or Green Zone, conducted by an Iraqi. He mentions the depravities of Saddam’s regime, and you can almost hear the fear in his voice (a remembered fear). I’m reminded of the title of an invaluable book: “Republic of Fear” (Kanan Makiya). It seems to me that Westerners forget about Saddam’s regime, or will themselves to: the “rape rooms,” the children’s prisons, the feeding of men into industrial shredders, the cutting out of tongues for dissent. I often think, during my stay here, “It’s good we got rid of Saddam. It’s good that we overthrew him. No matter the difficulties that ensued-it was a good thing in the world.”

We meet with an army of generals, led by Lt. Gen. Frank G. Helmick, who wears two hats: He’s head of the “multinational security transition”-the handing over of responsibilities to Iraqi authorities; and he’s head of the NATO mission. “A lot of people don’t know NATO is here,” he says. Alot of people don’t know a lot of things about Iraq.

About the Author

Jay Nordlinger

Jay Nordlinger was a senior editor of National Review and a book fellow at National Review Institute.

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YOU hear certain things over and over, as you spend some time in Iraq. You hear them from Iraqis, Americans, and others. What you hear is: We’ve made great progress in 2008. Al-Qaeda, the militias, and the rest of those lovelies are on the run. But our progress is fragile and reversible. If the coalition leaves too soon-before Iraq can defend itself-there will be hell to pay. If we leave too soon, our work will be for nought. You also hear, Iraqis don’t want Americans and other foreigners in their country. (That includes foreign terrorists too, of course.) No one likes to be occupied. At the same time, Iraqis are very, very worried about the American departure: a departure that precedes stabilization. It’s “Yankee, go home-but don’t leave us at the mercy of the wolves. Go home at the right time.” One word you hear constantly is “normalcy.” That is the great Iraqi desire: normalcy-a normal life, in which one can study, marry, have children, work, and pray, as countless people do elsewhere. Normalcy is not a modest goal, it is the shining ideal. Four of us journalists are here in Iraq, invited by the State Department. The feeling at State, it seems, is that Americans have lost touch with Iraq. The war is off the front pages, and sometimes doesn’t even make it to the inside pages. Is that because it’s going better? Can Iraq be news when it’s not a debacle? The American embassy in Baghdad is one of Saddam’s old palaces. Our GIs are swimming in his pool, an amazing fact. In the ballroom, missiles shoot upward-that is, they do so in a painting on the wall. The painting is as crude as Saddam’s ideas and ambitions. In this ballroom are makeshift offices, and the sign on one of them catches my eye: “U.S. Department of Justice-Committee on Integrity.” History is a remarkable thing. We have a tour of the International Zone, or Green Zone, conducted by an Iraqi. He mentions the depravities of Saddam’s regime, and you can almost hear the fear in his voice (a remembered fear). I’m reminded of the title of an invaluable book: “Republic of Fear” (Kanan Makiya). It seems to me that Westerners forget about Saddam’s regime, or will themselves to: the “rape rooms,” the children’s prisons, the feeding of men into industrial shredders, the cutting out of tongues for dissent. I often think, during my stay here, “It’s good we got rid of Saddam. It’s good that we overthrew him. No matter the difficulties that ensued-it was a good thing in the world.”

We meet with an army of generals, led by Lt. Gen. Frank G. Helmick, who wears two hats: He’s head of the “multinational security transition”-the handing over of responsibilities to Iraqi authorities; and he’s head of the NATO mission. “A lot of people don’t know NATO is here,” he says. Alot of people don’t know a lot of things about Iraq.