Tomorrow, Americans will commemorate the tragedies of September 11, but in a very different political atmosphere from what one could have imagined just a few months ago. This past May 1, George W. Bush made a spectacular landing on the aircraft carrier USS Abraham Lincoln to announce the end of combat operations in Iraq. Under an enormous banner that declared, "Mission Accomplished," the President announced a "victory in a war on terror that began on September the 11th, 2001" and "a crucial advance in the campaign against terror." "We do not know the day of final victory," he continued, "but we have seen the turning of the tide."
The American people, who had their doubts before the war but who, still haunted by the shock of September 11, had supported the president, were comforted and reassured. At the end of May 2003, no less than 80% of Americans considered the victory in Iraq a "turning point" or a "major accomplishment" in the war on terrorism, while 70% considered the war "justified" and another 70% believed that the war made the world "a safer place." President's Bush popularity rating had reached historically high levels, and the biggest question in domestic politics was not if the Democrats could capture the White House in 2004—out of the question—but who would replace the multilateralist Colin Powell as Secretary of State in a new Bush administration. The name of Paul Wolfowitz, the intellectual godfather of the Iraq war and of the transformation of the Middle East, was circulated as one of the principal candidates.
What a difference a summer makes. Since Bush's speech on the "end" of major combat operations, American forces in Iraq have suffered some 149 deaths, that is, more than the 138 that were killed during the war itself. The number of wounded American soldiers—although the Pentagon does not publish the figures—has risen to well above 1,000. There is not a week that passes without the announcement of new attacks on the troops or of sabotage of pipelines, of the power grid, or of the institutions that constitute the provisional government. Even worse is the series of horrific terrorist attacks—against the Jordanian Embassy on August 7 (17 dead), against U.N. Headquarters on August 19 (23 dead, including U.N. special envoy Sergio Vieira de Mello), and against the Ali Mosque in Najaf on August 29 (more than 100 dead, including one of the only Shi'ite leaders willing to cooperate with the occupation forces, Ayatollah Muhammed Bakr al-Hakim).
The Pentagon's notion of being able to guarantee stability in Iraq with only a few tens of thousands of troops men is now a thing of the past, and most of the 140,000 American soldiers currently deployed will not be seeing their families again soon. It is no surprise that the allies Washington was counting on to relieve the Americans—the Indians, the Pakistanis, the Turks, not to mention the French and the Germans—do not seem to be very enthusiastic.
Two years after September 11, is America getting bogged down in the Middle East? Are Americans, initially seduced by the neo-conservative thesis that they could remake the world using American military force, beginning to understand that the reality of the region does not allow it?
It is certainly too early to assume an end to the Bush foreign policy revolution. Despite current difficulties, if the Administration ends up bringing some measure of stability to Iraq—which is still possible—and if it succeeds in finding or killing Saddam Hussein, which is probable—the pendulum could swing again in the other direction. It is undeniable, however, that doubts about Bush's policy are growing and there is a risk that support will waiver if the attacks and casualties continue. The percentage of Americans who consider that the war and its aftermath are a success has fallen from 85% in April to 63% today. And the percentage of those who think that the elimination of Saddam Hussein's regime is worth the costs has fallen from 65% in May to 54% today. A small majority—54%—now consider that the efforts to bring stability to Iraq are "going well," but this majority is declining every day and will certainly disappear if stability is not soon restored.
This scenario will have implications for President Bush as well as for transatlantic relations. Democrats have begun to take note of these points by criticizing the isolation of the United States and the fact that 90% of the troops—and more than 90% of the dead—in Iraq are Americans. That the cost of the occupation is rising to $4 billion a month—at a time when the American economy is weak and registering record trade and budget deficits—poses more serious problems for the President on the eve of an electoral year. These domestic political considerations, together with the necessity to convince the allies to send additional troops, explain the administration's U-turn at the United Nations last week. Colin Powell announced that the Americans were finally ready to sacrifice at least part of their control over Iraq for international support.
Confronted by critics—including France, which says that the new approach is still not good enough—Bush faces a dilemma. He can do without the aid and the interference of others and increase the number of American troops, which is technically possible. But doing so would cost a lot of money and political capital because it would necessitate calling up even more reservists and rotating-in soldiers who have spent most of the last two years deployed abroad. Or he could make even more political compromises at the United Nations, which would risk diluting American control over a situation on which not only the future of Iraq and the Middle East but also Bush's own political future depends.
Whatever the exact position of the administration with respect to these two options, the French also face a dilemma. They can compromise with the United States and contribute to a success in Iraq, which risks proving the neo-conservatives and the unilateralists right. Or they can resist to the bitter end, refusing all compromise, and delight in America's problems, while watching Iraq descend into chaos.
It is perhaps worth mentioning here that the American perception is that France has already chosen the second strategy. Consciously or not, according to this view, France is hoping for the United States to fail, or at least to have major problems, in Iraq. French policy makers insist that this is not the case and that they are acting in good faith. But this is the American perception and one that does not bode well for French-American relations. Jacques Chirac's reaction to Washington's new resolution—that it was "very far" from what was necessary—only reinforced this impression.
That France does not want to give a blank check to coalition forces is absolutely understandable. After the Pentagon's policy of "punishment" of France, the temptation in France to make the administration pay for its arrogance must be very strong. Doing so, however, would be a mistake.
If Paris does not play any role in the international effort in Iraq, its interests will suffer, whatever happens on the ground. If America should succeed without a lot of international help—a scenario that remains possible—the doctrines of the Bush administration hard-liners will appear to have been confirmed, and the tendency to marginalize Europe and the United Nations will only grow. A Bush victory in 2004 remains possible. France will be listened to less than ever in Washington. In the event of a unilateral American failure in Iraq, France could congratulate itself by having been proven right, but it will surely suffer from the tangible repercussions of attacks and of the instability of a failed occupation. This would be tragic for the Iraqis, for the future of the region and for France's own security.
The only satisfactory scenario from the transatlantic point of view and for the Middle East requires sincere French participation as well as a substantial agreement on the international status of the occupation. Given the new inclination of the United States, if France offers real participation, Americans will eventually reach an effective compromise with France and the rest of the international community. Such a compromise would give more sovereignty more quickly to the Iraqis and give a substantial civil role to the United Nations, similar to the Kosovo model. This would be the first step not only toward the stabilization of Iraq, but also toward a calmer Franco-American relationship.
Two years after September 11, the United States is still a country at war. Its unilateralist tendencies will not disappear for some time. But it is also a country that is in the process of rediscovering, with difficulty, that it does not have the answer to all the problems of the world, nor the ability to deal with them alone. If America accepts that it needs allies, France should be the first to show that it is ready to respond to the call of its oldest partner to attain a common goal: peace and stability in the Middle East.