Still haunted by Hanoi

Josh Leon

Not much more than 10 years ago, following the Gulf War, a triumphant President George Bush The First proudly declared that the ghosts of Vietnam have been exorcised. Now facing the same enemy, Bush the Second is bent on testing that claim.

On the surface, America’s much-trumpeted post-Sept. 11 “patriotism” is going strong. Bush and company boast support from a majority of Americans from both sides of the political spectrum.

After entering office as the most unpopular new administration in modern history, Bush and his Republican counterparts now boast impressive “war time” support, sustaining sky-high approval ratings and craftily engineering a sweep of Congress by candidates whom I’m guessing would have been met with less success had the Sept. 11 attacks never happened.

It was all part of a grand design of the resurgence of military action in the 80s and 90s: You support our wars and we’ll make them as quick and painless as possible.

The idea is ostensibly a panacea to “Vietnam Syndrome,” the reservations Americans have over large scale combat after having suffered 58,000 dead in a war we lost–while some of the carnage was beamed into American living rooms.

Then came the so-called “overwhelming force” doctrine seen in the Gulf and Yugoslav wars: Keep it short and sweet with overwhelming air power, then, in the case of the Gulf War, mop up what’s left in a short ground war. But this includes a subtle cost: the First Amendment.

In his book “Second Front: Censorship and Propaganda in the Gulf War”, John R. MacArthur aptly describes the press/military relationship following a decade of government deception in Vietnam: “Never again would journalists look the other way or accept at face value official civil and military claims without careful examination.

But the lesson failed. Something went terribly wrong. The military learned its own lesson from Vietnam: keep wars short and keep the news media completely controlled in the opening days of engagement.”

In other words, subscribers of this policy (read: the Bush administration) hold the American public accountable for the loss in Vietnam, and prolonged brutal television images of warfare a catalyst for their inability to sustain support for it.

That’s why they have been quiet on casualties in Afghanistan. That’s why almost no reporters were allowed to see the front in the Gulf War. And that’s why reporters were made reliant on Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld’s misleading press conferences for information on the war on terror.

In short, they believe We the People inhibit prolonged warfare. And they’re right.

This is why the war in Iraq is such a huge gamble for the Bush administration. Unlike the first Gulf War, military “minders” will not be able to corral the media away from the front–they’re already waiting in Baghdad and surrounding urban areas, where much of the ground fighting threatens to take place.

If the ground war goes sour–and images are once again beamed into American households of its sons and daughters in combat for a prolonged period of time–we will soon see how committed the public really is to the ambiguous and ever-changing goals of Bush’s war.

But “Vietnam Syndrome” is dead and buried in Washington, and we are now left with an administration that thinks it can get in and get out cleanly–reaping the spoils of victory without true sacrifice. While this could well turn out to be the case, the truth is that large-scale ground wars are never predictable.

In addition to the rise or fall of the Republican Party next year, the Bush administration is wagering American lives (not to mention those of Iraqi civilians), on the bet that this war will be short and clean.

Let’s hope for their sake–and for ours–that they’re right. Because I have a hunch that where the public is concerned, the ghosts are alive and well.

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