'I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take it anymore'
by
David Grand
March 15, 2006
The more I read about the widening schism between the Shiites and the Sunnis, which is on the brink of erupting into an out and out civil war (with our troops caught in the crossfire), the more I feel like screaming the same or similar protest out of my window.
For those of you who didn't see that 1976 movie "Network," that's what a TV anchorman named Howard Beale, a.k.a. the "mad prophet of the airwaves" (played by Peter Finch), exhorted his viewers to yell out their windows to vent their anger about society's ills and the hypocrisies of the times.
But enraged as I am by the downward spiral of the war (with our causality figures over 25,000), I'm reluctant to stick my head out the window, for fear of causing my neighbors to call 911 and having my dogs howling like banshees. Be that as it may, I'll give it a shot.
If you would like to join me in this peaceful protest, but have misgivings about participating, I'd suggest you consider the following, uncanny parallels between Britain's occupation of Iraq (from 1917-1932) and today's situation:
There was no cordial reception of British troops in Baghdad, albeit they'd been told by Arab leaders that "they'd be received in Baghdad with open arms, after defeating the Turkish army in the Mesopotamian campaign, and would encounter little if any local opposition. (Dick Cheney was more eloquent, saying our troops would be greeted with "garlands of flowers" for disposing of Saddam.
Upon entering Baghdad in 1917, the ruins (from British artillery) looked much the same as when our troops arrived, with empty streets, closed shops and its inhabitants lacking in the essentials of life.
Iraqis were told in a proclamation, "that the British armies do not come into your cities and lands as conquerors or enemies, but as liberators...." And in 1920, the senior British official in Iraq cautioned, "that if we're to complete our task of regenerating Iraq, we must go very slowly with constitutional and democratic institutions."
Within six months, the British were fighting a large-scale insurrection in Iraq, and David Lloyd George, the prime minister, was facing calls for a military withdrawal. But he said he wouldn't abandon Iraq to "anarchy and confusion under any conditions," blaming the violence on "local political agitation, originated outside Iraq."
Could history repeat itself so perfectly? For Lloyd George's "anarchy" is what Bush said would be the result of our early withdrawal; and echoing his determination to "stay the course," no matter what the monetary costs, and the loss of however many American and Iraqis lives.
As regards the immediate future of Iraq, that's anyone's guess. But we certainly can't continue trying to stabilize Iraq for an indefinite period, while claiming that we've handed over "full sovereignty." Such double-talk may work well for a car salesman, but not for the leader of the free world.
The best idea I've heard so far came from that Democrat congressman John Murtha, a decorated Marine colonel of the Vietnam War. He stunned colleagues and had the hawks in the White House swinging from the chandeliers, by calling for the immediate withdrawal of US troops. His reasoning: "Our troops have become the primary target of the insurgency, and we're the catalyst for violence."
Later, he modified his position by suggesting the redeployment of a then reduced number of troops to the outlying desert, from which they could respond quickly if needed to shore up the tottering power of the Iraq government.
Makes sense to me, and I'm sure to most Americans, given that 70 percent of 'em have gastric acidity over the conduct of the war and want but one thing: a swift ending of our involvement.