History Repeating Itself
Margaret Wright - February 10, 2005

In Culture and Imperialism, Edward W. Said references “a depressing sense that one has seen and read about current American policy formulations before” (xxiii), a feeling I’m sure is widely held at this point in time. American history is simply repeating itself, putting the country on a downward slope rather than getting any closer to its original goals envisioned over 200 years ago. We still espouse freedom, tolerance, and progressive ideals, but if you look at history closely enough, we may be getting progressively backwards. You could summarize American history in one page: the same mistakes repeated over and over. The connection between Vietnam and our current war in Iraq is not a large jump to make. The impulse to establish democracy (the only sensible and safe form of government in the eyes of American policymakers) is the justification behind both wars. One would hope American leaders would learn from past mistakes, instead of plunging headlong into the same kinds of situations.

Sometimes it doesn’t seem like we’re actually at war, and other times blaring headlines like “Bloodiest Day for U.S. Troops in Iraq” (The New York Times) remind us that we’ve been at war for ages. I remember when President George Bush’s declaration of war interrupted all the TV stations way back in my freshmen year of college. I can clearly hear W. announcing he was going to find those nuclear weapons and stop terrorism and other emphatic promises that made this plan of action worthwhile. I’m now a junior, and I don’t see much progress. We never found those weapons of mass destruction. How is it that Bush persists in this war? Mainly because we created a bigger mess than we found, and are now faced with the long, expensive task of cleaning it up. Although Bush claims we are establishing a democracy (which, according to traditional American rhetoric is the answer to every problem,) this is not a true victory. Donald Rumsfeld expects violence to remain at high levels during and for months after the elections in Iraq. Al Qaeda and other guerilla groups have declared war on the election, vowing to attack polling stations and kill voters. Democracy does not appear to be brining peace to the Middle East.

It feels like the conflict is in a stalemate, yet the death toll keeps rising. We set out to capture Saddam Hussein. We did. We set out to “free” Iraq. We technically did. So where is victory? What next? Why is there lingering uneasiness? How come we haven’t saved the world from the tyranny of terrorism like we promised? It doesn’t seem like we’ve gained anything. America doesn’t seem any safer. Iraq is certainly not any more peaceful. Rather than helping out a country in need, we’ve simply invaded and taken it over. The bare facts alone reek of imperialism. We have succeeded in dominating another country, infuriating those who live there. Said discusses Joseph Conrad, the author of Heart of Darkness and Nostromo, as both an anti-imperialist and an imperialist because while he frankly portrayed the corruption of narcissistic colonial powers, he failed to recognize an alternative, that Africa or South America could develop their own independent culture: “What Conrad discerned as the futility latent in imperialist philanthropy – whose intentions include such ideas as ‘making the world safe for democracy’ – the United States government is still unable to perceive, as it tries to implement its wishes all over the globe, especially in the Middle East” (Said xix.) Though writing over ten years ago, Said’s words could have been written yesterday and would be even more significant. Under the guise of freedom, perhaps America’s foremost concept, conflict in the Middle East serves other American wishes and interests as well, such as gaining control of oil sources. The futility of the so-called philanthropic goal of helping Iraqis overthrow Hussein and build a democracy is evident in the escalating violence against the American presence and towards the election. Maybe, just maybe, the Iraqis don’t want us there. Maybe they were better off before we came along, or maybe they could have solved matters on their own. Why do Iraqis need Americans to rebuild their country and culture? It is the same arrogance that led America to try, as John Kerry put it, to “Vietnamize the Vietnamese.” Although Bush argues that he doesn’t have any other motive in Iraq than to allow them to establish their own democracy, it is hard to escape American influence when their troops are stationed in your country, watching and chaperoning your every move.

Americans are caught up in this tradition of freedom, persuaded by this time-honored buzzword, which Bush has used to justify his actions. Yet, we are truly operating with an imperialist attitude. The government is doing its best to veil the connection to that long running practice, that large stain on history where it was acceptable to swoop in on a weaker country and subjugate its people, forcing your own form of government on them. Said is not fooled: “There is the horrifically predictable disclaimer that ‘we’ are exceptional, not imperial, not about to repeat the mistake of earlier powers, a mantra that has been routinely followed by making the mistake, as witness the Vietnam and Gulf wars” (xxiii). America feels exceptional. No, we aren’t modern-day imperialists. We’re crusaders, saving Iraq, restoring freedom. We are putting their fate in their own hands, establishing elections and giving them a vote. Nevertheless, we are overseeing the process with military force. Is it really so different?

America suffers from a severe case of narcissism, adopting the persona of a healer, able to solve all the problems of other countries if we are gracious enough to throw our generosity their way. Since the end of the Cold War, the American government has been broadcasting the rhetoric of the “New World Order,” characterized by blatant self-congratulation, unconcealed “triumphalism,” and grave proclamations of responsibility: “we are number one,” “we are bound to lead,” “we stand for freedom and order,” and so on. No American has been immune from this structure of feeling…the rhetoric of power all too easily produces an illusion of benevolence when deployed in an imperial setting” (Said xvii). America is number one! We’ve always felt superior, but especially after 9/11, a renewed feeling of nationalism has been sweeping the nation. We’re the most powerful, profitable country in the world! Of course we’re exceptional! We can do no wrong! And if you disagree with our actions, we’ll write you off. France didn’t think war was a good idea. Well, out with French fries, in with Freedom fries.

Mistakes have certainly been made but the situation is even more shameful in light of American history, in light of Vietnam, where we essentially tried to do the same thing against the better judgment of many American citizens, and though we held our ground for over a decade, we failed miserably.

It was reported that the deadliest day in Iraq since the initial conflict began left 37 American soldiers dead. Read a little further and you’ll learn that terrorists also killed 25 Iraqis. Since this is more of an everyday occurrence, it doesn’t deserve its own headline. The juxtaposition is telling: the value of American life is inflated way above that of any other human being. John Kerry's comments on similar tendencies in his Vietnam Veterans Against the War speech delivered in 1971: “We fought using weapons against those people which I do not believe this country would dream of using were we fighting in the European theater or let us say a non-third-world theater….Each day…someone has to give up his life so that the United States doesn’t have to admit something that the entire world already knows, so that we can’t say that we have made a mistake.” The priority of American life is strongly rooted in our history, dating back to when we nearly wiped out the Native American population to settle the land for our own purposes. Kerry laments that there is no more moral indignation, which remains the case as Americans coolly read news reports listing lengthy Iraqi body counts without batting an eye. Though we should mourn for our own troops and grieve over the fact that 37 brave soldiers died for nothing, we should also be indignant at the enormous number of Iraqis suffering and dying from our interference. In Vietnam “we rationalized destroying villages in order to save them,” and I cannot see how we are doing any differently in Operation Iraqi Freedom.

Kerry declared that, “The country doesn’t know it yet, but it has created a monster, a monster in the form of millions of men who have been taught to deal and to trade in violence, and who are given the chance to die for the biggest nothing in history; men who have returned with a sense of anger and betrayal which no one has yet grasped.” Will this happen to our current soldiers? Documentaries like Michael Moore’s Fahrenheit 9/11 argue it already has, showing soldiers who are angry and feel duped. They were sent off to war to discipline Hussein for not turning over his weapons of mass destruction, or for not cooperating with inspectors who insisted they were there. They were told the Iraqis would welcom this help, desperate to be free of Hussein and his threat. They were told this would avenge the 9/11 attacks and help stop further terrorism against Americans. Initially, 22 months ago, I thought the war wouldn’t be for nothing if we at least found the rumored WOMD. But we didn’t. There weren’t any. I do feel angry, but I would feel worse if I enlisted in the army and was sent to war by a mistake.

Kerry’s speech pertaining to the Vietnam War and Said’s book, published in 1993, remain eerily relevant. We have not learned to mind our own business. We have not learned that all human life is priceless. We continue to believe our way is the only right way, and mistakenly force our government and culture onto the rest of the world. We can’t keep going to war for the same bad reasons. America is not progressive. America claims to be the most powerful and pioneering nation, a badge of honor used to justify our actions. We wanted to stop the spread of communism, invading Vietnam and fighting for years after we realized the issue wasn’t communism, but that the Vietnamese merely wanted to be free of any colonial influence, including the United States. Pride dragged on the conflict; we couldn’t stand to lose a war. We invaded Iraq to free the country; instead we’re essentially ruling it with our military. We wanted to “make the world safe for democracy” – we instigated a surge of violence we are still trying to get under control. We are not valiantly continuing our benevolent quest; we simply can’t get out of the hole our egoism has dug ourselves into.