Rethinking the Iraq debate

Among the reactions to Condi Rice's address printed in the 'Prince' last week, I was most struck by the letter entitled "Rice evaded the real questions on Iraq." The authors proceed by bracketing the substance of Rice's talk and focusing instead on the discrepancy between the current argument and the original rationale for war. They begin: "We won't try to argue with the points about freeing the oppressed of the world and bringing democracy to the Middle East ... Instead, let's turn to a simple fact: The justification this government used for the war in Iraq was focused on weapons of mass destruction."

What the authors do not explain is why this "simple fact" should excuse us from critically engaging the content of Rice's speech.

The implicit premise is that Americans needn't respond thoughtfully to what the administration is now saying about Iraq simply because it's different from what was initially said. That premise is nonsense.

I do not dispute that the President has shifted his foreign policy rhetoric over the last several years. But I'm not convinced that the mere invocation of this fact should begin and end our conversations about the war in Iraq.

To me, it is perfectly natural to expect that the justification for this war should change as the facts on the ground change. Our reasons for invading Iraq in the first place need not be the same as our reasons for keeping troops there right now. When Rice talks about our mission in Iraq, her task is to explain why our presence there continues to make a positive difference. Of course, that explanation has nothing to do with WMDs. But why should it? Isn't it theoretically possible that there are good reasons for continuing the fight in Iraq, even if the intelligence that led us to war was flawed? Surely, the failure to find WMDs should not cripple all subsequent attempts to make the best of Saddam Hussein's ouster.

The real problem, according to some, is not that the rationale for war has changed, but that the Bush administration acts as though it hasn't. Thus, the 'Prince' editorial board faults Rice because "she failed to mention that democratization was not the original reason for invading Iraq."

But what analytical work does this objection really do? Does the board actually expect administration officials to begin every speech with a dramatic mea culpa of their WMD mistake, and only then proceed to newer and sounder justifications of the war? Let's imagine, for a moment, that Rice had opened her remarks as follows: "Ladies and gentlemen. Once upon a time, WMDs provided the primary rationale for invading Iraq. How mistaken we were! But here's the good news: We've come up with a much better reason to stay in Iraq ... ."

Is that what the editorial board wanted to hear? Would such a confession have made anybody any more receptive to Rice's argument? Or would it simply have satisfied our apparent need to hear the administration admit it was wrong?

This need absolutely consumes many in the antiwar movement. Antiwar activists seem less interested in arguing that the war is wrong than in reminding us that the President himself is wrongness incarnate. That's why they can't stop talking about WMDs. Don't we all just see that the President was w-r-on-g wrong, and that everything else is besides the point? Who believes Condi Rice anyway? Why think critically about the link between the autocracies of the Middle East and Islamic terrorism? All we need to know is that the President can't get anything right.

I am not an apologist for the Bush administration. Yes, the President is wrong often and contrite never. His imperviousness to criticism is frustrating. But if the antiwar movement means to contribute helpfully to public discourse, it will have to get past its own contemptuous self-righteousness. The movement cannot refuse to engage the substance of any foreign policy address on the grounds that the administration was wrong about WMDs. Non-sequiturs don't win arguments.

Condoleezza Rice came to Princeton to present a plausible theory of the role democratization might play in the war on terror. It's not a perfect or universally persuasive theory, but it merits a thoughtful, substantive critique. Raw contempt will not — and should not — rule the debate. Jeremy Golubcow-Teglasi is a religion major from Potomac, Md. He can be reached at golubcow@princeton.edu.