I GAVE an interview to Radio Scotland this morning on the only subject the media are interested in today: Iraq.
I spent so much time in 2003 defending the government and the Prime Minister from criticism of the war and it’s been an awful long time since I had to revisit those arguments. But my! How they all came flooding back!
Amusingly, one of the BBC journalists who interviewed me more than once at the time was Iain Macwhirter, whose anti-war views he failed to conceal even then. Today, as a freelance no longer employed by the BBC, he feels no need to offer even a pretence of objectivity. He was interviewed after me and immediately dismissed my comparison of Kosovo in 1999 with Iraq in 2003. He either couldn’t understand the point I was making or, more likely, deliberately chose to misinterpret it. The two events were, as Macwhirter correctly pointed out, entirely different. Unlike in Kosovo, there was no immediate humanitarian emergency in Iraq four years later which demanded an international response. But the point I was making was on international law. There was no specific UN mandate for military action by Nato against the Serbs in 1999. None of the nations taking part was acting in self-defence. Very few people at the time even raised the subject. But in 2003, it was all about international law, wasn’t it?
Well, no. It wasn’t. It was all about politics. It was about polticians making political decisions and about those who disagreed with those decisions using whatever arguments that came to hand to oppose them. You never hear the Guardian-reading classes demanding that Tony Blair (note the correct spelling) be tried for war crimes committed in Kosovo, where there were civilian casualties resulting from the Nato bombing. Why? Because those same Guardian-readers agreed with that particular policy, irrespective of its legality.
The greatest ever political failure of the international community was in deciding to do nothing to try to prevent or mitigate the genocide in Rwanda in the 1990s. I’m quite sure that had we sent troops in to prevent the massacres, we would have been breaking international law. And I’m sure there are plenty of people who would have cared about that, though I’m not one of them. Refusing to get involved in Rwanda while hundreds of thousands of men, women and children were brutally slain was entirely immoral and cowardly. But it was legal in international terms, so maybe that’s alright then.
So we can talk all we want about the legality or otherwise of the Iraq invasion and war, and no doubt we will. But if you think that’s what the controversy is all about, you’re dead wrong. It’s about the politics. It’s always been about the politics.
AS THE date of Tony Blair’s appearance before the Chilcot Inquiry draws ever nearer, news editors start to salivate and the Stop The War Coalition place an order for some new placards (get the spelling right this time, eh lads? It’s “AI”, not “IA”. Honestly, standards these days…).
The thing is, everyone knows what he will say when he gives evidence. You know it, I know it. Some of us will believe him. Others won’t. No-one will change their minds.
The Telegraph will be pompous and self-righteous in its reporting of the event, and will probably try to detract attention away from the fact that the Tories supported the move to war.
The Guardian will be reluctantly and cautiously critical, but will also be careful to point out that there are two sides to every story.
I’ve no idea what David Aaronovitch in The Times will say but I know that he’ll be right and I’ll wish I’d said it first
The Daily Mail will claim that Blair’s decision to invade Iraq resulted directly in record numbers of immigrants coming to the UK.
The Daily Express will complain that Chilcot didn’t ask Blair about his involvement in the Diana cover-up.
The Independent will carry a front page headline calling on everyone to switch their car engines off while waiting at traffic lights.
And in The Sun, Tina, 22, from Essex, will say that what’s important is that we support our troops.
Actually, I’m with Tina on this one.
AS THE fifth inquiry into Iraq kicks off, I wonder how many opponents (or indeed, supporters) of the war will be prepared to change their minds as a result of its conclusions?
More importantly, how many opponents will already be calling the Chilcot inquiry a “whitewash” and demanding another (sixth) inquiry if it concludes that the government acted in good faith in committing us to the invasion and occupation? How many inquiries must we have before someone comes up with the “right” answer?
I’VE ALWAYS hated “Gestapo” comparisons. You know the kind thing I mean: “That officer gave me a funny look – Honestly! It;s like Hitler’s Getapo!”
“Police state” is another one: “I was only doing 140, and they send me a court summons! It’s like Pinochet all over again…”
Not only are most of these comparisons plain silly, they’re incredibly offensive to those who actually lived through Nazi Germany or whose family were actually killed and tortured by Pinochet’s regime. It’s not just that the British police are being compared to the Gestapo: the suggestion is that the Gestapo were no worse than the Met. Or that people living in Britain have it as bad as Chileans in the 70s.
And so we return to the old “Is Tony Blair a war criminal?” nonsense, repeated today by Oliver Miles in the Independent on Sunday. As John Rentoul so sensibly points out, it’s number 180 in his series of “Questions to which the answer is ‘no’.”
If, by “war criminal”, we mean someone who led his country into a war that was unpopular with some people, then, yes, Tony Blair is undoubtedly a war criminal. But generally speaking, war criminals are people who deliberately ordered the targeting of civilians during a military engagement, or who either ordered, or did nothing to prevent, the execution or torture of their opponents. In other words, someone who “committed war crimes”.
No-one except the feeble-minded are seriously suggesting that Tony Blair is guilty of this second definition. And, as with “police state” and “Gestapo”, such accusations devalue the force of such accusations. The Gestapo? “Well, arguably some of their officers overstepped the mark, but most of them were quite helpful if you needed directions to the Reichstag.” Police state? “Not so bad, really, so long as you don’t mind being stopped and searched at railway stations once in a blue moon.”
War criminal? “Tony Blair’s as bad as Hitler, innit? I mean, taking Britain to war in Iraq after two votes in Parliament, then imposing democracy then withdrawing troops… I mean, two peas in a pod, eh?”
CHERIE Blair’s comments in the Independent on Sunday today ring true: that in 2003, Tony was probably 51-49 per cent in favour of committing British troops to Iraq.
When discussing the subject with non-politicians, they’re always surprised to hear that such important decisions can – and sometimes have to – be taken on a balance of argument, rather than on an overwhelming moral conviction one way or the other. Most opponents of the war I’ve spoken to tend to fall into that category; they are utterly convinced that the war was totally unjustified in any respect.
If only life – and politics – were that simple.
A few months ago, I wrote:
Within the question there is often an assumption that those of us who voted for war had the same single-minded conviction as those who opposed it. And it’s true that many who voted for the war did in fact have an absence of doubt that was shared by their opponents. I envied them, for I did not, and I still don’t.
I simply couldn’t comprehend how any MP could walk into either division lobby on such a controversial and complex issue without a glimmer of doubt in his mind, whichever lobby he was walking into. For my part, I wrestled long and hard with the various arguments, changing my mind about a dozen times about how I intended to vote. Those who marched against the war, who now hate everything about Labour and Tony Blair because their protests had no effect, will not understand such agonising. After all, war is either good or bad, right or wrong, yes?
No.
So on the night of the first vote, in February 2003, I supported the government, then went home with a very heavy heart, fretting in case I had made the wrong decision. A few weeks later, I had made up my mind and was probably two-to-one (in my head) in favour of invasion. It was then that I decided the time for equivocation had ended. If you’re going to make a decision, stick to it, defend it, and live with the consequences.
Amusingly, John Rentoul reckons Cherie’s comments represent just about all there needs to be said, so the Chilcott enquiry can pack up and go home.
One thing I trust that critics of Blair’s (and my) decision will bear in mind is that the UK never voted for an invasion and occupation of Iraq – that was going to happen anyway. The question before us was whether we should commit British troops to the US effort. But had the Commons voted “no” more than six years ago, it would have made precious little difference to Iraq’s fate.
AFTER longer-than-expected break from the art of podcasting, Jamie Reed and I are back with, I hope, a much improved sound quality (apart from occasional knocks of the mic).
This week’s topics are the totally non-controversial ones of Iraq and the election of the next Speaker.
As always, any feedback gratefully received.
AN INQUIRY into the war in Iraq is to be announced this week, and Next Left asks the pertinent question: will such an inquiry restore public trust in government?
No, it won’t.
Whatever the conclusions of the inquiry, those who opposed the war in the first place will maintain they were right, as will those who supported it.
If the inquiry concludes that the war was justified (and I don’t know if that would be within its remit in the first place) then opponents will shout "whitewash!" (someone usually does whenever any inquiry reports). If the outcome is veiled or restrained criticism of the government, then we can all go back to where we are now: defending or attacking Blair and Bush.
So are such inquiries a waste of time? No, but we should put their work in perspective. When Lord Hutton was appointed to head the inquiry into the death of Dr David Kelly, it was widely welcomed as a good move, with Hutton himself considered a no-nonsense judge who would get to the truth. Unfortunately, the truth he unearthed wasn’t the truth the media wanted, so they tore Hutton, his reputation and his inquiry team apart.
That’ll teach them, eh?
Such inquiires are not there to reinforce the public’s or the media’s preconceived notions. They are set up to get to the truth. But when you start second-guessing the political choices and judgments of a country’s leaders, then all you can expect an inquiry to do is get to a version of the truth, not the absolute, objective, official, gospel truth. Because politicians’ decisions are invariably made based on a balance of evidence, a balance which can usually justify a number of different courses of actions, and no inquiry can conclusively gainsay such decisions.
Given the controversy surrounding Iraq and the number of servicemen and women who have lost their lives there, of course an inquiry is unavoidable. I would simply caution against assuming that it will draw any sort of line in the sand.
IF YOU wanted to devise a sure-fire strategy for making the BNP more popular and for increasing resentment against this country’s Muslim minority, you could do no better than the “anti-war” protests in Luton yesterday.
To greet British troops returning from active duty in Iraq and Afghanistan with placards denouncing them as “butchers” is beyond disgusting. It’s the British equivalent of the the Westboro Baptist Church in Kansas, whose members famously (infamously) picket the funerals of US soldiers by displaying “God hates fags” banners.
I don’t know whether the protesters are deliberately trying to damage race relations (I suspect they don’t care one way or the other) but they will certainly succeed.
And I feel it’s only a matter of time before someone starts laying into The Daily Mail for carrying this story so prominently on its front page. But why shouldn’t it? It’s a perfectly valid story in which many people are interested. Most other papers carried it anyway, albeit in their inside pages.
In this case, we should blame the message, not the messenger. Those who chose to stir up racial tensions by staging an inappropriate and unnecessary protest are the ones who should take the blame for they damage they have done.
CLARE Short’s banging on about Iraq again this morning. Now she’s claiming there was never a Cabinet discussion on whether or not we should join the invasion and that that’s the reason the minutes won’t be released.
The minutes aren’t being released because the meetings in question were substantially less than 30 years ago; the government’s decision is in line with long-accepted policy on these matters, which is why the Conservatives agree with the decision.
But isn’t it remarkable that Clare Short has managed to reinvent herself as some sort of anti-war figure? Most people seem to have forgotten that she actually voted for the war.
In fact, not only did she vote for the war on both occasions when the House was given the opportunity to do so, but she wrote to every Labour MP pleading for them to do the same. It was only after the invasion when she suddenly decided she should resign.
Personally, I think she would have been of far greater service to the Labour Party if she had resigned from the cabinet slightly earlier — say, about six years earlier. But that’s just me.
WE ARE told that the Iraqi journalist who threw his shoe at President Bush a few weeks ago did so because such an act is considered disrespectful.
The same justification was given yesterday when a shoe was thrown at the Chinese prime minister.
So tell me: in which country is chucking your shoe at someone not considered disrespectful?