Freedom Behind Bars

Even without the morbid fascination in the American press as to whether Iraq is in a civil war, it has become apparent to virtually everyone (erstwhile hawks, longtime conservatives, ordinary citizens) that the occupution has failed. In a remarkable finding by Zogby, despite the fact that 85% of U.S. soldiers currently serving in Iraq still believe that the war was mainly to "retaliate for Saddam's role in 9/11," 72% now support an immediate or swift withdrawal.

Perhaps the single recent event that best symbolizes the brutality and chaos of the Iraq War was covered in a small piece by Reuters on Tuesday. According to the news service, the U.S. is closing down its reconstruction efforts, with most projects left unfinished and many basic services worse than before the invasion. The only new rebuilding money in the latest State Department budget request is for more prisons. Or as Iraq coordinator James Jeffrey puts it, "There is one bit of construction we will be doing -- $100 million for additional bed capacity for the Iraqi legal system."

Could there be any greater or sadder disconnect between emancipatory rhetoric and actual reality? Yet, the moral to take from the war is not the one increasingly drawn by critics. In yet another Fukuyama love-fest, Slate also has an article condemning the Administration for having no sense of the "tragic" and for in the last analysis decending into "Trotskyist" wish-fulfillment. As we've written before, the problem with the war was not the ideological commitment to democracy, but the sheer emptiness of the supposed democratic ideal itself -- one without any space for local popular power, collective agency, or political disagreement (at home or abroad). The fact that all the Administration can do now is build jail cells and watch from the sidelines speaks volumes about the impossibility of granting freedom from above, especially when you have no idea what freedom means.