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International Socialist Review Issue 45,
January–February 2006


Crisis in the Bush administration
Down, but not yet out

By PAUL D’AMATO

AFTER HIS reelection more than a year ago, George W. Bush spoke with undisguised triumph. “When you win,” he said, “there’s a feeling that the people have spoken and embraced your point of view.” Using an appropriate business metaphor, Bush vowed to spend the “political capital” he had earned by his reelection to push through his conservative agenda. Pundits fell all over themselves, using great red and blue maps, to explain how “conservative values” had triumphed in the election. Stunned liberals concluded that America had gone “red state.”

The administration has since taken a beating that has proven Bush and the pundits wrong. In a combination of events reminiscent of Richard Nixon’s ill-fated second term, Bush faces a deepening crisis on a number of fronts. This includes a failing war in Iraq, Washington’s abandonment of the people of the Gulf Coast during Hurricane Katrina, a spy-leak scandal that has already led to the indictment of Vice President Cheney’s aide, Louis “Scooter” Libby, the indictment of former Republican House Majority Leader Tom DeLay for money laundering, and a number of other corruption scandals that threaten to bring down several prominent members of Congress over the coming months. The crisis has created rifts within Bush’s own party.

Bush’s overall approval rating is at or below 40 percent from a post-election high of 54 percent last February. Among African Americans, according to an October Wall Street Journal/NBC News poll President Bush’s job approval rating is down to 2 percent—a figure below the margin of error of the poll. Opinion polls show that 54 percent or more of Americans want U.S. forces withdrawn promptly from Iraq, and three out of five believe it was a mistake to have sent troops in the first place. A November Wall Street Journal/NBC News poll asked people which party they wanted to control Congress in 2006, and the Democrats won out by a 48-to-37 percent margin, the largest gap since pollsters began asking the question in 1994.

The occupation of Iraq, the centerpiece of Bush’s “war on terror,” continues to stagger from crisis to crisis, and there is little reason to believe that the December parliamentary elections will change the picture. The occupation not only fuels the resistance it seeks to crush, but the U.S. appears to have hit upon a strategy that involves arming Shiite and Kurdish militias to suppress it, a surefire way to stoke the civil war they claim only their presence can prevent.

New revelations of torture in Iraq continue to surface, as well as new disclosures that the U.S. sends suspects to secret prisons in foreign countries to be tortured, a procedure it calls “rendition” (see Nicole Colson’s article in this issue). The State Department recently admitted that it had used phosphorous—a chemical weapon that burns through the skin when ignited—on Iraqi positions when they destroyed Fallujah in the fall of 2004. Whole sections of the military, and leading political figures from both parties worry that the war is creating a “broken” fighting force that threatens America’s ability to pursue its other imperial aims, and there is a growing consensus—though not everyone will admit it publicly—that the Iraq War is not “winnable.” As each “turning point” in the war proves false, the war in Iraq continues to go poorly for the U.S., and it is the war, more than anything else, that is driving all the other elements of the crisis.

The leak scandal threatens to do the most damage because it is tied closely to the war and threatens to topple not only Cheney’s closest aide, but also Bush’s chief political adviser Karl Rove. The scandal revolves around an apparently narrow question—finding out who in the Bush administration leaked to the press the identity of CIA agent Valerie Plame. But the leak was almost certainly part of the administration’s efforts to sell a war on Iraq that most now agree was based on cooked intelligence. Plame’s identity was leaked days after her husband, Ambassador Joseph Wilson, publicly criticized the Bush administration for using forged documents to “prove” that Saddam sought uranium for bomb making from Niger. Though the CIA knew the Niger story to be a fraud, Bush stated in his 2003 State of the Union Address, “The British government has learned that Saddam Hussein recently sought significant quantities of uranium from Africa.”

Special Counsel Patrick Fitzgerald has so far only indicted Scooter Libby—for obstruction of justice, two counts of perjury, and two counts of making false statements, but not for leaking Plame’s identity. He clearly isn’t finished. It is already known that Rove failed to tell investigators in 2003 that he had spoken about Plame to Time magazine reporter Matthew Cooper and conservative columnist Robert Novak, the first journalist to “out” Plame. More recently, the Washington Post’s Bob Woodward of Watergate fame, has come forward to say that a still undisclosed administration official told him in June 2003 that Plame worked for the CIA.

Socialist Worker editor Alan Maass explained the broader significance of the case:

The scandal raises much deeper questions—above all, why and how the U.S. went to war in Iraq based on lies. The leaks to the press about Valerie Plame are at the end of a long chain of fraud and manipulation, managed by a government within the government—concretely, the White House Iraq Group, established in August 2002 with Rove as its chair, to come up with the strategy to sell the war.

So long as the war continues to go badly for the U.S., the scandal is likely to get worse.

Another highly placed Republican, Representative Tom DeLay, was forced to give up his post as House majority leader after being indicted by two grand juries for conspiracy and money laundering, in violation of Texas law that prohibits direct corporate donations for political purposes. He is accused, along with two Republican fundraisers, of taking $190,000 in corporate donations from his political action committee and giving it to a Republican National State Elections Committee, which then gave the same amount of money to seven candidates for the Texas legislature in 2002.

The list goes on. Senate Majority Leader Bill Frist (R-Tenn.) is under investigation by the Securities and Exchange Commission over his sale of millions of dollars in Hospital Corporation of America stock. High-powered Republican lobbyist Jack Abramoff and his partner, Michael Scanlon, are under fraud investigations for collecting $82 million in fees from Native American tribes seeking congressional approval of casino projects. Scanlon, who has reached a plea agreement and has agreed to give back $19 million, will probably testify against Abramoff. Abramoff’s money laundering and influence peddling operation makes Delay’s troubles in Texas look like child’s play. As more threads of the Abramoff case are pulled, a dense network of all of the top GOP congressional leaders, lobbyists, and activists that form the foundation of Republican rule in Congress could be unraveled. In the words of Thomas E. Mann, an analyst at the Brookings Institution, the Abramoff affair “has the potential to be the biggest scandal in Congress in over a century.”

To be sure, signs of the simmering crisis in Washington, centered on the war, were manifest well before this fall. Exit polls in November 2004 showed there was about a fifty-fifty polarization on anything to do with the war, and 70 percent said they were concerned with the rising cost of health care. Then, not long after his reelection, Bush backed off from his plan to partially privatize Social Security in the face of its overwhelming unpopularity. The Terri Schiavo right-to-die case presented the Republican Right with an opportunity to show the American people their commitment to “life.”

“No thanks to the Dems, who mostly cowered,” wrote Katha Pollitt in the Nation, “the stratagem backfired: The weekend after Schiavo’s feeding tube was withdrawn, 75 percent of Americans told CBS pollsters they wanted government to stay out of end-of-life issues, and 82 percent thought Congress and the President should have kept away.”

Of key importance in turning growing numbers of people—even some of Bush’s supporters—against Bush was his handling of Hurricane Katrina. The almost unfiltered media images of tens of thousands of poor African Americans, stranded and left to their fate in New Orleans, waiting for the help that would never come, treated more like animals than human beings, horrified millions of Americans. It was a moment that brought together in an instant the government’s twisted priorities, its willingness to spend billions to bomb cities in Iraq but not to build safe levees, and its laissez-faire attitude to disaster and poverty.

Finally, and not the least important, is the question of the economy. Though the Bush administration sees the economy as its strong suit, pointing to the creation of 215,000 jobs in November, most workers won’t see it that way. The economy’s 4.2 percent growth rate last year was the best since 1999, “yet most families actually lost economic ground,” wrote economist Paul Krugman in the New York Times. This is having a predictable impact on popular consciousness. According to a November Harris Poll, 90 percent of respondents said big companies had too much influence on government, up from 83 percent last year. Most people, in short, understand for whom the economy tolls.

Bush’s unpopularity showed in several congressional actions—from a Senate vote outlawing torture to a congressional revolt against Bush’s choice of Harriet Miers as Supreme Court justice—in which even Republicans went against the administration. But the key question remains the war, the rancor over which finally spilled onto the floor of the House of Representatives in November when Rep. John Murtha (D-Penn.) called for a “redeployment” from Iraq.

Murtha’s speech was a bombshell because it brought the full impact of the war’s failures to the Congress. The messenger, moreover, was a Vietnam War veteran and a man who is in close contact with U.S. military officials and knows their concerns. His speech can be seen as a warning to Bush from the armed forces:

The war in Iraq is not going as advertised. It is a flawed policy wrapped in illusion. The American public is way ahead of us. The United States and coalition troops have done all they can in Iraq, but it is time for a change in direction. Our military is suffering. The future of our country is at risk. We cannot continue on the present course. It is evident that continued military action is not in the best interests of the United States of America, the Iraqi people or the Persian Gulf Region.

The Bush administration’s response has been to launch an attack on its critics, issue blanket denials regarding torture, and to issue new policy statements and speeches about “staying the course” in Iraq. By many accounts, Bush seems almost deliberately isolated. A December 19 Newsweek article with the title “Bush in a bubble,” describes a President shielded from bad news by his closest advisers:

One House Republican, who asked not to be identified for fear of offending the White House, recalls a summertime meeting with congressmen in the Roosevelt Room at which Bush enthusiastically talked up his Social Security reform plan. But the plan was already dead—as everyone except the president had acknowledged. Bush seemed to have no idea. “I got the sense that his staff was not telling him the bad news,” says the lawmaker. “This was not a case of him thinking positive. He just didn’t have any idea of the political realities there. It was like he wasn’t briefed at all.”

The Bush administration, like the Nixon administration during its second term, is so out of touch with reality that it thinks the problem is merely one of improving its PR. One way to do this is simply to redefine success. “To be responsible, one needs to stop defining success in Iraq as the absence of terrorist attacks,” Rumsfeld told a group of graduate students in Washington. But as John J. Pitney, professor of government at Claremont McKenna College in California, noted “Bombs in Baghdad are going to have a lot more impact than speeches in Washington.”

Murtha and the Democrats

Bush has faced a series of crises, but until now he has managed to weather all of them. Bush’s current counteroffensive against his critics may even have some success in reestablishing a measure of control over his bad press and in stabilizing, at least temporarily, his falling poll numbers. The reason for this lies not with the alleged inherent conservatism of the American public, but the way in which the Democratic Party has failed to offer much in the way of a genuine opposition to Bush. Referring to Bush’s approval rating last May, one veteran Republican with close ties to the White House said, “The only reason he’s still up there in the 40s is that the Democrats are really brain dead and have nothing positive to put on the table.”

The party’s primary concern has been to find a way to criticize Bush’s handling of the war without appearing as if it favors “cutting and running” from Iraq. But even they are seeing the writing on wall. Democrats seem increasingly emboldened to criticize Bush, but only within certain limits. This attitude was on display during the Murtha debate in Congress. When the Republicans decided to call the Democrats’ bluff and introduced an amendment calling for immediate, unconditional pullout from Iraq, all but three Democrats voted against it. To repeat: When offered a chance to vote for at least the nominal position of the antiwar movement—bring the troops home now—almost every congressional Democrat voted it down.

The Democrats are hoping that their criticism of the scandals and the mishandling of the war will automatically swing voters their way, and they may or may not be right. It’s also possible, now that Murtha has opened up a debate that is forcing itself on the entire ruling establishment, that the Democrats will become increasingly bolder in their criticisms of Bush.

But aside from House Minority Leader Nancy Pelosi, who recently announced her support for Murtha, most Democrats have distanced themselves from Murtha’s plan. Illinois Senator Barack Obama’s statement to the Chicago Tribune captures the contradiction between the Democratic Party’s desire to appeal to popular sentiment and its commitment to American imperialism:

It is arguable that the best politics going into ‘06 would be a clear succinct message: “Let’s bring our troops home.” It’s certainly easier to communicate and I think would probably have some pretty strong resonance with the American people right now, but whether that’s the best policy right now, I don’t feel comfortable saying it is.

The party is likely to settle on a position that calls for some kind of phased withdrawal over an extended period of time, though it will be conditioned on whether or not the current elections in Iraq and training of the Iraqi military to take over efforts to crush the resistance are successful. The main leaders in the party, from Hillary Clinton to Senate Minority Leader Harry Reid (D-Nev.) to House Minority Whip Steny H. Hoyer (D-Md.) hold a position almost indistinguishable from Bush’s: build up the Iraqi army to the point where U.S. troops can be drawn down.

Even the various withdrawal resolutions offered by supposed allies of the antiwar movement like Rep. Lynn Woolsey (D-Calif.), are not all they are cracked up to be. Woolsey, co-chair of the Democratic Party’s Progressive Caucus, is vague about a time frame, calling for Bush to “develop and implement a plan to begin the immediate withdrawal of United States Armed Forces from Iraq,” in order then to replace U.S. troops with an “international peacekeeping force” that could work alongside “Iraqi police and Iraqi national guard forces to ensure Iraq’s security.” This proposal is not even against the occupation of Iraq.

Nevertheless, the proposals from Murtha and the rest reflect a growing consensus among many establishment foreign policy and military experts of both parties. As Zbigniew Brzezinski, who was President Carter’s national security adviser, puts it: “We have to face the fact that the war is not going well and is costing us too much, not only in blood and money but also in the U.S. position in the world, discrediting our legitimacy, credibility, and morality even.” The problem for the establishment is that it hasn’t figured out a clear strategy about what to do in the face of this disaster.

So leading politicians—from Murtha to Bush—have fixed on the idea of “drawing down” U.S. forces and replacing them with Iraqi forces. But this doesn’t mean a winding down of the war. As Seymour Hersh wrote in the December 5 New Yorker:

A key element of the drawdown plans, not mentioned in the President’s public statements, is that the departing American troops will be replaced by American airpower…

“We’re not planning to diminish the war,” Patrick Clawson, the deputy director of the Washington Institute for Near East Policy, told me. Clawson’s views often mirror the thinking of the men and women around Vice-President Dick Cheney and Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld. “We just want to change the mix of the forces doing the fighting—Iraqi infantry with American support and greater use of airpower. The rule now is to commit Iraqi forces into combat only in places where they are sure to win. The pace of commitment, and withdrawal, depends on their success in the battlefield.”

Given where Murtha’s initiative is really coming from, it is a mistake for those in the antiwar movement to identify with it. Murtha’s intervention is important because it acknowledges not only the disaster in Iraq, but also the very real mass discontent that exists over the war in the United States. But we should not confuse it with an antiwar position. Murtha’s proposal calls for “redeployment” of U.S. troops in Kuwait, where they can be used as a rapid strike force in Iraq and elsewhere in the Middle East. His intentions were made clear by his statement to CNN’s Anderson Cooper: “if we have to go back in [to Iraq], we can go back in.”

Yet some left-liberals were over the moon about Murtha’s proposal. On its Web site, the Progressive Democrats of America posted an article calling the GOP-backed resolution “an attempt to trick Democrats into supporting a ‘cut and run’ position on withdrawing U.S. troops.” Yet “cut and run” is just the right wing’s way to slur the “troops out now” position of the antiwar movement.

Liberal antiwar commentator Stephen Zunes, who applauded Murtha’s proposal as a good one, added that U.S. withdrawal from Iraq “does not mean that the United States does not have a moral and strategic responsibility to prevent an insurgent victory.”

As a result, the United States may need to keep a residual rapid reaction force—possibly stationed in Kuwait, southeastern Turkey, or easternmost Jordan—that could provide tactical air support in the event there is an assault on Baghdad’s Green Zone should the Iraqi government and its regional allies find themselves imminently threatened by the jihadists or other extremist elements.

The problem with this ostensibly antiwar position is that it stands in support of American imperialism in the Middle East, that is, its right to station a praetorian guard in the region in order to maintain in power a government of its own choosing in Iraq. Zunes even considers it the moral responsibility of the U.S. to crush the Iraqi insurgency. If this is an antiwar position, what does a prowar position look like?

Gilbert Achcar and Stephen Shalom on Znet expressed what should be the position of the entire antiwar movement: “The antiwar movement cannot endorse U.S. military intervention in the Middle East, whether over or under the horizon. We don’t want U.S. troops remaining in the region and poised to go back into Iraq. They don’t belong there, period.”

If antiwar forces sign on to one or another “drawdown” position, what will they say when Bush begins to implement troop withdrawals that are widely expected to take place in 2006?

What unites the Democrats and Republicans, whether or not they think it was a mistake to invade and occupy Iraq, and whether or not they have only recently come to that conclusion or have thought it all along, is that they want to project American power overseas. Both parties want the Iraq occupation to succeed, and are not happy that the United States has been unsuccessful in Iraq.

The Democrats are a party that openly identifies with America’s imperial goals and the interests of big capital. Yet we continue to face political forces on the left who insist that we must unite with liberal Democrats and act carefully so as not to jeopardize that alliance—in order to “defeat the right wing.” How many times must we learn that the liberal tail doesn’t wag the centrist dog? The wholehearted embrace by sections of the antiwar movement of liberal Democrats is an embrace that, instead of advancing the struggle, smothers it. It is not cowardice or cravenness that prevents the Democrats from “living up” to the concerns of their popular base. It’s the fact that the Democratic “base” is an afterthought for a party that values U.S. big business and empire above all.

The position of the antiwar movement should be that the U.S. must unconditionally and immediately withdraw all its forces from Iraq. Anything less would signal that the U.S. has in some way been able to assert its power over Iraq. Self-determination for the Iraqi people means that the U.S. has no right to determine the Iraqi people’s fate. And getting the U.S. out means the U.S. “losing” Iraq, just as it lost Vietnam. Antiwar leaders shouldn’t act as if their job is to propose alternative strategies for “victory” in Iraq.

There are uncanny parallels between the current situation facing Bush and the situation that faced Richard Nixon after he inherited the losing U.S. effort in Vietnam. Nixon began his presidency with vague assurances that he was committed to ending the war. He escalated it instead, by increased bombing of North Vietnam and secretly spreading the war to Laos and Cambodia. There is talk today that Bush may spread the Iraq war to Syria—there has already been some cross-border incursions from Iraq by U.S. troops into Syria. Nixon’s program of “Vietnamization” involved drawing down U.S. troop numbers, beefing up the army of South Vietnam, and stepping up the air war—precisely the kinds of plans the Bush administration is now touting in Iraq. In his second term, Nixon became embroiled in a scandal involving secret wiretapping of opponents and even government officials, and the famous burglary of Democratic Party headquarters at the Watergate Hotel. Bush’s close associates are now enveloped in scandal.

In many ways, however, the scale of the crisis facing the Bush administration is greater than Nixon’s, which ended in his resignation in disgrace over the Watergate scandal soon after the defeat in Vietnam. For one thing, the Plame leak scandal, unlike Watergate, is more directly connected to the war. Moreover, the “loss” of Iraq is of far more strategic significance to the U.S. than the loss of Vietnam. On the other hand, the antiwar movement at this stage is weaker, and there is therefore less pressure on the administration from below, and less from the Democrats.

Yet conditions seem ripe for upheaval. This is because of the way in which the war and its cost in lives and treasure intersect with growing economic inequality and privation at home. Economist Robert Frank made this observation recently in the Philadelphia Inquirer:

History has repeatedly demonstrated that societies can tolerate income inequality only up to a point, beyond which they rapidly disintegrate. Numerous governments in Latin America have been overthrown largely because of social unrest rooted in income inequality. And in a survey of more than a quarter of a million randomly selected individuals worldwide, economist Robert MacCulloch found that people in countries with high income inequality were much more likely to voice support for violent revolution.

Major social upheavals are sometimes preceded by years or even decades of rising levels of social unrest. If such unrest is currently building in the United States, it remains well-hidden. But as recent experience has made clear, social upheavals often occur with virtually no warning. Almost no one predicted the fall of the Eastern European governments in 1989. Because revolutions almost always entail important elements of social contagion, even small changes can launch political prairie fires once a tipping point is reached.

That tipping point may not be very far away.


Paul D’Amato is managing editor of the ISR.

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