Posted on 27-3-2003
Flags
In The Dust
Although coalition forces may be winning
the military battle on land and in the air, Iraq is winning
the battle of hearts and minds, writes Brian Whitaker* from
The Guardian UK.
Monday March 24, 2003
One of the finest war photographs ever taken shows the raising
of the American flag over Iwo Jima in February, 1945. The battle
for this tiny island in the Pacific, just five miles long and
two miles wide, lasted 31 days and cost 6,821 American lives.
In the picture, six helmeted figures grapple
with a pole, attempting to plant it on a rock-strewn mountain
top. At the end of the pole, the Stars and Stripes flutters
in the wind against a vast open sky.
The symbolism of this picture, taken by Associated Press photographer
Joe Rosenthal, was clear to everyone at the time. The huddle
of human figures represented heroic endeavour, while the flag
and the sky signalled hope and freedom. As
an artistic composition, the photograph was so brilliant that
ever since the day it appeared there have been people who claimed
it was specially posed - though there is ample evidence that
it was not. In just 1/400th of a second, Rosenthal's camera
captured the spirit of the time.
Maybe this was what someone had in mind early last Friday when
invading American marines removed an Iraqi flag from a building
in Umm Qasr, just across the border from Kuwait, and raised
the Stars and Stripes. But what might have seemed a noble gesture
in 1945 is open to different interpretations 58 years later.
In Britain, even supporters of the war denounced the flag-raising
as a stupid act, undermining claims that the goal is to liberate
Iraq, not to conquer it - and by nightfall the Iraqi flag was
back. In the midst of more dramatic events, this was a very
minor incident, but a telling one nonetheless: it highlighted
a credibility gap that may yet become a catastrophic flaw in
America's war strategy.
Most wars start by accident or with a flourish of misplaced
jingoism. But this war is unique. It is hard to recall any conflict
in history that aroused so much opposition even before it began.
At best its legitimacy and purpose is in serious doubt. At worst,
millions regard it as illegal and/or immoral. Besides
that, it is led by a president for whom few outside the United
States have any respect. Just as the onus was placed on Iraq,
during the period of inspections, to prove that it had no weapons
of mass destruction, the onus now is on the invasion forces
to convince a sceptical world of their bona fides. This is probably
impossible to do, since the official and unofficial aims of
the war cannot be reconciled.
One example of confused messages came on the first day with
the attempt to assassinate Saddam Hussein. Apart from looking
hasty and opportunistic, it conflicted with argument made during
the UN inspection process that the main goal was to disarm Iraq.
That might not have been so bad if, after Saddam had appeared
on television to show that he was still alive, US officials
had quashed speculation that he might be dead. Whatever private
doubts they might have harboured (about the use of lookalikes,
etc), joining in the guesswork merely cast doubt on their credibility
as sources of authoritative information.
The Centcom command centre in Qatar, with its hugely expensive
press facilities, has also been slow to get its case across.
It was not until Saturday that General Tommy Franks got round
to speaking to the world's media, with a polished performance
that said almost nothing. In the meantime, other officials made
all sorts of statements that were contradictory in some cases
and downright wrong in others. The battle for Umm Qasr, the
small port near the border with Kuwait has been won and un-won
so many times that by now most people have lost count. It's
no excuse to attribute these failures to the "fog of war"
or "psychological operations" against the Baghdad
regime.
Iraqi spokesmen, on the other hand, have been remarkably forthcoming
and, if we disregard the usual rhetoric, the factual content
of their statements has often been more accurate than that of
the invasion forces. Their figures for Iraqi casualties have
also been low enough to sound plausible.
Friday brought the appalling "Shock n' Awe Show" which,
in its visual effects, resembled something that might have been
conceived by a big-budget Hollywood director. Its military purpose,
if any, is still far from clear, and those shocked by it were
mainly TV viewers outside Iraq. After decades of wars, sanctions
and repression, Iraqis themselves have become inured to almost
anything. As the attack was ending, some of the Arab TV channels
lingered for a few seconds on a bizarre scene in flickering
night-vision green: Iraqi spectators standing in open parkland
on the opposite side of the river, watching the fireworks. Though
this attack was meant to terrify the Baghdad regime into submission,
nobody in Washington seems to have anticipated its effect on
the rest of the world. To some in the Arab and Muslim countries,
Shock and Awe is terrorism by another name; to others, a crime
that compares unfavourably with September 11.
To the homespun folks in Middletown, California - recorded by
the BBC the other day singing patriotic songs around their dinner
table - such perceptions may be utterly incomprehensible, but
they are real and cannot be ignored. They explain why the American
flag has become a liability and why westerners in Yemen, for
example, have taken to flying the blue-and-gold European flag
from their cars to discourage attackers.
General Franks, of course, is at pains to point out that modern
American missiles are extremely accurate and that every target
is carefully selected to minimise civilian casualties. This
may be, but it takes only a few exceptions to persuade people
otherwise - as happened at the weekend when al-Jazeera television
showed millions of Arab viewers the picture of a child with
a shattered head.
As the invasion forces move closer to Baghdad, it is still an
open question as to whether ordinary Iraqis will view them as
conquerors or liberators. The omens so far are not particularly
good. When they arrived in Safwan last Friday, one Iraqi greeted
them by saying: "What took you so long? God help you to
become victorious." Possibly he meant it, though it's not
hard to imagine similar words being addressed to anyone who
arrived in town with a conspicuous display of weaponry. Two
Reuters correspondents, travelling independently of the military,
told a different story: "One group of Iraqi boys on the
side of the road smiled and waved as a convoy of British tanks
and trucks rolled by. But once it had passed, leaving a trail
of dust and grit in its wake, their smiles turned to scowls.
'We don't want them here,' said 17-year-old Fouad, looking angrily
up at the plumes of grey smoke rising from Basra. 'Saddam is
our leader,' he said defiantly. 'Saddam is good'."
All these effects were easily foreseeable, though not easily
avoided once a decision was made to go to war. With less than
a week gone, the invasion forces may be slowly winning the battle
on land and in the air but Iraq is winning the battle of hearts
and minds. To have reached such a position against an adversary
who is demonstrably one of the world's most disgusting tyrants,
to have transformed him into a hero figure, and to have transformed
the American flag into a symbol of oppression, is .
Email brian.whitaker@guardian.co.uk
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