Colin Powell put it clearly and succinctly: "If you break it, you own it." America broke Iraq. America owns Iraq. This is how the rest of the world sees it. This is also why the world is mystified by the current Obama-Cheney debate. Both these camps are saying "you did it".
Actually both the camps should say "we did it".
The tragedy about this divisive debate is that the United States is missing a great opportunity to reflect on a big and fundamental question: Why is the US so bad at the simple task of invading and occupying countries? Surely, the American invasion and occupation of Iraq will go down in history as one of the most botched operations of its kind. The US spent US$4 trillion, lost thousands of American lives and millions of Iraqi lives and, at the end of the day, achieved nothing. Since the failure was so catastrophic, why not at least try to learn some valuable lessons from it? There are at least three lessons that scream for attention.
The first lesson is the folly of good intentions. Let's be clear about one thing: Americans are not evil people. They do not conquer countries to rape, pillage and loot. Instead, they conquer countries to help the people. President George W. Bush's goal was to set up a stable, functioning Iraqi democracy, not to set up an American colony in perpetuity. The British colonial rulers of Iraq in the early 20th century would have been totally mystified by these good intentions. And they would have been even more flummoxed by the methods used to achieve these good intentions. For example, the British would preserve local institutions, not destroy them.
The last successful American occupation was the occupation of Japan. General Douglas MacArthur wisely preserved Japanese institutions, including Emperor Hirohito, despite his role in the war. By contrast, the US destroyed both Saddam's army and his Ba'ath party at the beginning, thereby condemning the occupation to failure. Some Americans believed they could manage Iraq because US governance was inherently superior. Mr Paul Bremer assumed he could rule Iraq effortlessly with his big boots, without ever being aware that his big boots were culturally offensive.
This American trait of supreme self-confidence in running other societies is not new. When I lived in Phnom Penh in 1973-74 40 years ago, I witnessed first-hand how a young, inexperienced US diplomat would walk into the offices of the Cambodian Economic Minister and give him daily instructions from Washington, DC on how to run the Cambodian economy. What was the result of this? The Cambodian leaders felt powerless to govern their own society. There is a paradox here. One strength of American culture is that it empowers people. But when the US takes over another society, it disempowers it. This happened in Iraq, too.
So after the disastrous management of Cambodia and South Vietnam and of Afghanistan and Iraq, Americans should absorb one painful lesson: Because Americans are full of good intentions, they are incapable of occupying other countries. The US should get out of this business completely. Even the United Nations does a better job of managing countries in transition.
The second lesson is to avoid over-reliance on the US military. President Barack Obama said it well: "Just because we have the best hammer, does not mean that every problem is a nail." Future historians of the American century will spend a lot of time scratching their heads over a difficult conundrum: How did the relatively peaceful people of America become so trigger-happy in their external adventures?