That a similar set of experiences can be interpreted differently, depending on the point of view of the observer, is a foundation of modern social science.  There is no one privileged platform, no single true understanding of events.  With that in mind, it is instructive to look at three very different contemporary reflections on the events since 11 September 2001.  They are, by no means, the only three, and, as mentioned above, none can claim to have any more authority than any other. 

Let us begin with a piece published in the Washington Post this week.  In it, several atypical U.S. Army officers are showcased.  They have served multiple tours in Iraq and/or Afghanistan and have a variety of emotional and rational ‘take aways’ from their experiences.  Well educated, bright, and articulate, these officers (as portrayed by the Washington Post, at any rate) seem rather downhearted.  They mourn the loss of those close to them (American comrades and local interlocutors), but more than that, they seem to struggle to make sense of the larger significance of what they went through.  As one of them commented in 2006,

“If Iraq is to teach us anything, it must be that a new idea cannot be beat into a society.” 

Four years on, in both Iraq and Afghanistan, there is much to support this opinion, but much to refute it as well.  As operations ‘begin to wind down’ in Iraq and perhaps Afghanistan too (depending on how elastic one’s definitions are of  ‘begin’ and ‘wind down’), the US Army, at an individual level, will be conducting–implicitly–literally millions of ‘after action reviews’.  The conclusions, from this perspective, will run the gamut from support to cynicism, from moral defeat to martial triumph. 

At the level of the institution, though, the Army cannot afford to have such a panoply of lessons learned.  The Army must do its best to form an opinion, and move on from it, as it has done (and as all organisations do) in the past.  These lessons learned are not always honestly arrived at, not always in keeping with the preponderance of evidence, not based on the sum of opinion..  Despite being institutional, the Army perspective on Iraq and Afghanistan is formulated by human beings and not merely the ‘average’ experience dispassionately recorded by the disembodied hand of history.   As such, Army documents, such as the Army Operating Concept, lay down vignettes and snippets of experience so that they may act as tropes, functioning, according to the philosopher of History Hayden White, to turn one thing into another in order to create meaning.  Technically, these instrumental perspectives allow for a form of narrative constructivism, and go beyond a mere record of what happened.  For instance, in the AOC, the US Army uses operations in Afghanistan and Iraq as proof for the need to create and maintain a balanced force into the future, all the way out to 2028.  There needs to be a conventional component to strategy and action:

Army forces conduct combined arms maneuver to gain physical, temporal, and psychological advantages over an enemy.

But this needs to be tempered by a healthy dose of  the ‘unconventional’ (don’t mention COIN, please):

Army forces employ combined arms maneuver and wide area security to seize, retain, and exploit the initiative.  Wide area security is the application of the elements of combat power in coordination with other military and civilian capabilities to deny the enemy positions of advantage; protect forces, populations, infrastructure, and activities; and consolidate tactical and operational gains to set conditions for achieving strategic and policy goals.

Call it compromise, call it dialectic, call it pragmatism, call it tidy.  Note that this institutional perspective may be at odds with several individual perspectives, especially if they are similar to those of Major Cooper, as expressed above.  But what is good for the Army must prevail.

At the level of American foreign and defence policy, much of the same logic applies…at least to some observers.  In his latest book Washington Rules, Andrew J. Bacevich pulls no punches.  A former US Army colonel, a professor of International Relations, and the father of a fallen American soldier (his son was killed by an IED in Iraq in 2007), Bacevich’s perspective on American operations in Iraq and Afghanistan wars is one of  “permanent war”.  If one were to read only what he has written since 2007 (especially his The Limits of Power: The End of American Exceptionalism, 2008) it would easy to dismiss his work as that of a embittered, grief-stricken father.  While his current work certain contains a hint of what must be his profound sorrow, it is consistent with his theses previously advanced in his earlier books, which detail the continuity of American imperialism (American Empire, 2004) and increasingly, American militarism (The New American Militarism, 2005). Since the end of World War II, America has been engaged in a near-continual ‘semi-war’, much to the detriment of domestic society and priorities.    And what have Afghanistan and Iraq taught Bacevich?

Semiwarriors created the Washington rules.  Semiwarrors uphold them.  Semiwarriors benefit from their persistence.  Regardless of what threats actually exist, semiwarriors, some in uniform, others wearing suits, concur in the need to sustain high levels of military spending…Although careful to genuflect before the historic achievements of the citizen-soldier, they…nurture a warrior class largely divorced from the society it serves…Above all, what gets lost along the way is accountability.

Endings do not really exist, but milestones (real or confected) do serve to help take stock.  How have more than eight years of combat in Afghanistan and seven in Iraq affected people, organisations, and countries?  How will they affect the way in which they think about themselves, others, and the relationships between them in the future? 

It all depends on your perspective.

UPDATE: President Obama’s perspective, whether personal or merely political, seems to suggest that the war in Iraq ‘was not worth it’.  Sure, there were accomplishments: the US forces

defeated a regime that had terrorized its people.  Together with Iraqis and coalition partners who made huge sacrifices of their own, our troops fought block by block to help Iraq seize the chance for a better future.  They shifted tactics to protect the Iraqi people, trained Iraqi Security Forces, and took out terrorist leaders.  Because of our troops and civilians — and because of the resilience of the Iraqi people — Iraq has the opportunity to embrace a new destiny, even though many challenges remain.

However, those accomplishments came at a heavy price, not only directly–in terms of the lost lives and the impact that has on families, whether they are American or Iraqi–but, moreover, in terms of ‘opportunity costs’ at home:

Unfortunately, over the last decade, we’ve not done what’s necessary to shore up the foundations of our own prosperity.  We spent a trillion dollars at war, often financed by borrowing from overseas.  This, in turn, has short-changed investments in our own people, and contributed to record deficits.  For too long, we have put off tough decisions on everything from our manufacturing base to our energy policy to education reform.  As a result, too many middle-class families find themselves working harder for less, while our nation’s long-term competitiveness is put at risk.

One more perspective that, owing to its author, will shape the perspectives of countless others.  The extent to which it is accurate, or representative, is a matter for debate, but it will certainly take its place within the narrative fabric of how the US, and the world, views the ‘war in Iraq’.  Furthermore, it helps to shore up the narrative explanation to the non-war related question, “How in the hell are we in such a mess today?”

War is an emotional and very personal thing, and that extends beyond the intensity and gravity of combat; to waiting for loved ones, some of whom never return; to worrying about what a war might be doing to your country and its society.  However, experiencing war (as those above have done) is not the same as representing it. 

So, what is the message of the past, even the very recent past?  Whatever a particular author or narrator conveys it to be.    Caveat lector.

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