The hanging of Saddam Hussein Dec. 30 offered a view
into the grotesque reality of what America
has sponsored in Iraq,
and what Americans saw should inform their response to President Bush's
escalation of the war.
The deposed tyrant was mercilessly taunted. As he
stood on the threshold of the afterlife and was told to go to hell, the world
witnessed a chilling elevation of the ancient curse, making an absolute villain
an object of pity.
And then, in chanting the name of Moqtada al-Sadr,
whose family had been a particular target of Hussein's his executioners made
clear that the execution was an act of tribal revenge, not of national
restoration, much less justice. It was a lynching. This Shi'ite brutality is
guaranteed to spawn Sunni savagery. Iraq itself is hell.
Officials of the United
States, from military commanders in Baghdad
to members of the Bush administration in Washington,
sought to distance themselves from the bedlam, but they are essential to what
happened at the last moments of Saddam's life. Decorum would have been the main
note of his death if Americans had managed it, but the execution would have
been no less an act of false justice.
The harsh fact is that the Shi'ite dominated
government of Nouri al-Maliki, in its contemptible treatment of a man about to
die, laid bare the dark truth of Bush's war. This is what revenge looks like,
and revenge (not weapons of mass destruction, not democracy) drove the initial
US attack on Saddam Hussein every bit as much as it snuffed out his life at the
end. The hooded executioners took their cue from George W. Bush.
And why should they not have? Let's remember who this
man is. As governor of Texas, he presided over
the executions of 152 people, including the first woman put to death in Texas in a century. Her
name was Karla Faye Tucker. Bush's response to the world-wide plea raised in
her behalf was an astounding display of cruelty, a mocking imitation of the
woman begging not to be killed.
Bush rejected appeals for clemency in every death penalty
case that came before him. The Texas
death chamber, with its lethal injection gurney, is a place of decorum. And
savagery. That executions defined the main public distinction that Bush brought
to the US presidency sums up the national disgrace, while suggesting also how
little surprise there should be that America is presided over now by an
executioner-in-chief.
Capital punishment is to individuals what aggressive
war is to nations. The 20th century, for all its brutality (or because of it),
marked the watershed era when world opinion shifted against both. Once, princes
exercised life-and-death power over subjects with unchallenged authority. Once,
the only check on a state's freedom to attack another state was its power to do
so.
These two absolutes of realpolitik have changed. From
the Kellogg-Briand Pact of 1928 to principles laid down at the Nuremberg tribunals to the United Nations
itself, wars of aggression stand condemned. The force of state violence is to
be exercised only in self-defense or in defense of a victim people, in
circumstances defined by international agreement. Similarly, nation after
nation has abolished the death penalty, understanding the absurdity of
defending human life by destroying human life. If killing can ever be justified,
individually or communally, it is only as an absolute last resort. In sum, an
international moral consensus has taken shape against unnecessary violence,
whether targeting a criminal or a rogue state.
George W. Bush is the impresario of unnecessary
violence. America
has followed him into the death chamber of this war, and now he wants us to
believe that the way out is through more death.
Iraqi loss of life remains mostly unimagined, but
every evening on the television news, Americans see the sweet faces of young
soldiers who have died in Bush's war. They were heroes, not criminals, yet Bush
dragged each one of them up onto a gallows. He positioned them on the trap
door, hardly wincing as they then fell through. And now, in perhaps the
greatest outrage of all, Bush claims that the way to justify the unnecessary
deaths he has caused is to add to them. Escalation is his way of saying, go to
hell.
With his lies at the beginning of this war, and his
fantasy now that an honorable outcome remains possible, the president is a
taunting killer, caught in the act. He lacks nothing but the black hood. Stop
this man.
by James
Carroll
Source: Commondreams